I 


UC-NRLF 


35 


UNZVERSXT?  OF 
PAYI3 


DOC     HORNE 


DOC      HORNE. 


DOC'   HORNE 


A  Story  of  the  Streets  and  Town 


GEORGE    ADE 

AUTHOR   OF    "ARTIE,"    "PINK    MARSH,"    ETC. 
PICTURES   BY 

JOHN  T.  McCUTCHEON 


HERBERT   S.  STONE  AND  COMPANY 

CHICAGO  AND  NEW  YORK 

MDCCCXCIX 


LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 


COPYRIGHT    1899,    BY 
HERBERT    S.   STONE    &    CC 


THIS  STORY  IS  REWRITTEN  IN  PART  FROM  A  SERIES 
OF  ARTICLES  THAT  FIRST  APPEARED  IN  THE  CHICAGO 
RECORD,  AND  THANKS  ARE  DUE  TO  MR.  VICTOR 
F.  LAWSON  FOR  PERMISSION  TO  USE  THIS  MATERIAL. 


Doc'   Home 


CHAPTER  I 

THE    HIGH    WATER    IN   '57 

"If  they  had  built  the  Mississippi  levees 
as  I  told  them  to,  long-  before  the  war,  they 
wouldn't  be  washed  away  every  year,"  said 
Doc'  Horne. 

"You've  been  through  that  flood  country, 
have  you,  Doc?"  asked  the  lush. 

"As  often  as  you  have  fingers  and  toes," 
replied  Doc.'  "I  think  it  was  in  1857  that 
I  went  out  from  Cairo  in  charge  of  a  relief 
expedition,  and  the  river  was  so  high  that, 
as  far  as  you  could  'see  in  any  direction, 
nothing  but  tree  tops  and  the  roofs  of  houses 
showed  above  the  water. ' ' 

"Those  floods  must  be  awful,"  said  the 
dentist. 

"My  uncle  didn't  think  sp,"  remarked  the 
lush,  with  a  palpable  wink  at  the  light- 
ning dentist.  "My  uncle  was  down  south 


2  DOC'    HORNE 

for  his  health,  and  was  living  in  a  small 
house  a  short  distance  from  Vicksburg.  He 
occupied  an  upper  room,  and  his  two  negro 
servants  slept  downstairs.  Well,  when  the 
flood  season  came,  his  neighbors  were 
uneasy,  and  some  of  them  moved  away,  but 
he  was  never  much  of  a  man  to  worry  about 
trouble  until  it  actually  came.  He  believed 
the  levee  was  strong  enough  to  hold  the 
current,  and  he  said  that  even  if  there  was 
an  overflow  it  wouldn't  do  any  more  harm 
than  dampen  his  front  yard.  He  took  his 
regular  sleep  every  night,  and  didn't  fret. 
Now  what  do  you  think?  This  will  interest 
you,  Doc'." 

"Yes?"  said  Doc',  inquiringly. 

"Yes,  sir,  he  awoke  one  morning  and  saw 
a  tree  just  outside  his  window.  He  didn't 
know  what  to  make  of  it.  There  hadn't 
been  any  tree  there  the  night  before.  He 
began  to  think  some  one  had  worked  a  mir- 
acle on  him,  so  he  got  up  and  looked  out  of 
the  window,  and  there  was  a  whole  clump 
of  timber  in  front  of  him,  and  the  whole 
country,  as  far  as  he  could  see,  was  .inun- 
dated. You  see,  the  levee  had  broken  dur- 
ing the  night  and  flooded  the  country  for 
miles.  The  water  simply  lifted  my  uncle's 


THE    HIGH    WATER    IN    '57        3 

house  off  its  wooden  foundation  and  floated 
it  a  half-mile  or  so,  and  lodged  it  against 
this  patch  of  timber.  He  slept  through  it 
all." 

"Were  the  servants  drowned?"  asked  the 
dentist. 

"No,  they  ran  away.  They  were  so 
frightened  they  didn't  even  stop  to  arouse 
my  uncle,  and  he  always 
said  he  was  glad  they 
hadn't  aroused  him,  be- 
cause he  hated  to  get 
up  in  the  night.  If  I 
remember  it  right,  the 
two  servants  were  found 
in  a  cottonwood  tree 
the  next  day.  It  may 
have  been  some  other 
kind  of  a  tree,  but  I 
think  it  was  a  cotton- 
wood.  ' ' 

"It's    not    unlikely," 

.  ,     ^        ,  .,,  .        .        THE    RACE-TRACK    MAN. 

said  Doc  ,   with  a  look 

of  dry  disdain  at  the  lush.  "That  country 
used  to  be  full  of  cottonwood  trees  when  I 
was  along  there  making  contracts  for  steam- 
boat fuel." 

"Your  uncle  must  have  had  a  hard  time 


4  DOC'    HORNE 

getting  his  house  back  to  where  it  be- 
longed," suggested  the  race-track  man. 

"I  suppose  he  waited  until  there  was 
another  flood,  and  then  let  it  float  back," 
said  the  dentist. 

"Now,  here;  this  is  right — what  I'm  tell- 
ing you,"  said  the  lush,  who  pretended  to 
resent  these  interruptions.  "He  didn't 
have  to  move  the  house  at  all.  The  new 
location  over  by  the  patch  of  timber  suited 
him  so  well  that  he  bought  the  land,  had  a 
new  foundation  put  under  the  house,  and  it 
so  happened  that  the  flood  set  it  down 
almost  exactly  on  a  north  and  -south  line,  so 
that  it  didn't  have  to  be  moved  more  than 
three  inches  to  make  it  face  exactly  east. 
The  flood  brought  the  stable  along,  too,  and 
dropped  it  just  a  short  distance  from  the 
house,  so  that  uncle  didn't  have  very 
many  things  to  move  over  from  the  old 
location." 

"Would  you  like  to  have  a  true  story?" 
asked  Doc'  Home.  "When  I  was  out  in 
charge  of  this  same  relief  expedition,  we 
picked  up  in  mid-river  a  cradle  in  which  a 
baby  was  asleep.  We  learned  afterward 
that  the  baby  had  floated  some  thirty  miles 
before  we  found  it.  I  presume  that  the 


THE    HIGH    WATER   IN   '57        5 

water  gave  a  gentle  rocking  movement  to 
the  cradle  and  kept  the  child  asleep." 

There  was  a  pause  of  a  few  moments,  and 
then  the  dentist  said:  "Well,  anyway,  I 
don't  like  this  wet  season  of  the  year." 

"Yes,  but  we're  better  off  here  than  they 
are  out  in  the  country,  where  the  roads  are 
muddy,"  said  the  lush. 

"That's  a  fact.  Down  in  Indiana,  where 
I  used  to  live,  we  had  the  black  prairie  mud. 
At  this  time  of  the  year  it  would  take  four 
horses  to  pull  a  two-wheeled  cart  with  a 
man  and  a  sack  of  flour  in  it. ' ' 

"I  don't  doubt  it,"  said  Doc.'  "Any 
one  who  was  acquainted  with  this  western 
country  in  the  early  days  can  tell  you  some 
remarkable  stories  of  what  we  had  to  con- 
tend with  in  overland  travel.  Why,  right 
here  in  Chicago,  before  they  put  down  the 
corduroy  roads,  wagons  used  to  mire  in 
Clark  Street,  and  any  one  who  lived  as  far 
out  as  Evanston  or  La  Grange  had  to  swim 
half  of  the  way  to  get  to  Chicago  at  this  time 
of  the  year.  On  the  occasion  of  my  first 
visit  to  this  town,  a  man  named  Simpson 
and  I  used  to  take  a  great  many  horseback 
rides  out  into  the  surrounding  country.  He 
was  trying  to  sell  me  some  tracts  of  so-called 


6  DOC    HORNE 

farm  land,  but  it  was  really  swamp  and  raw 
prairie,  and  I  couldn't  see  my  way  clear  to 
buy.  Most  of  it  is  worth  from  one  hundred 
to  one  thousand  dollars  a  front  foot  now, 
but  that's  neither  here  nor  there. 

"As  I  said,  we  used  to  take  many  horse- 
back rides  together.  It  was  in  May,  and  we 
were  having  some  very  warm  weather,  fol- 
lowing a  season  of  continued  rains.  The 
roads  had  been  practically  impassable  for 
weeks,  but  they  were  drying  rapidly,  espe- 
cially on  top.  You  have  doubtless  seen, 
gentlemen,  a  muddy  road  with  this  'dry 
crust.  At  intervals  along  the  roads  there 
were  deep  rucks,  or  'mud-holes,'  as  they 
were  called.  When  a  mud-hole  dries  rapidly 
a  cracked  and  flaky  crust  forms  on  top,  and 
the  large  flakes  curl  up  and  warp  in  the  sun. 
Often  enough  the  crust  will  be  as  dry  as  a 
bone,  while  underneath  are  several  feet  of 
soft  mud.  I  don't  know  that  you  ever  heard 
the  term,  gentlemen,  but  in  those  days  a 
mud-hole  with  this  deceptive  dry  crust  on 
top  was  called  a 'loblolly. '  Often  it  would 
require  weeks  of  warm  weather  to  dry  out 
one  of  those  places. 

"Well,  as  I  started  to  tell  you,  Simpson 
and  I  came  to  one  of  these  low  places  in  the 


THE    HIGH    WATER   IN   '57        7 

road.  It  seemed  dry,  even  dusty,  on  top, 
but  I  had  had  some  experience  in  prairie 
country,  so  I  told  Simpson  to  go  slow.  He 
had  been  out  from  the  east  but  a  short  time, 
and  thought  he  knew  it  all.  He  started 
across.  Of  course,  the  dry  shell  broke 
through  as  if  it  were  thin  ice,  and  the  first 
thing  he  knew  he  and  the  horse  were  stuck 
deep  in  the  softest  mire  I  ever  saw.  I 
jumped  off  my  horse  and  threw  him  one  end 
of  my  hitch-rein,  and  pulled  him  out.  I  sup- 
posed, of  course,  that  the  horse  could  get  out 
of  the  mud  if  relieved  of  the  weight.  He 
couldn't,  though.  The  more  he  struggled, 
the  deeper  he  went.  I  had  heard  of  horses 
sinking  in  quicksand,  but  that  was  the  first 
and  only  time  I  saw  a  horse  sink  right  down 
into  the  mud. ' ' 

"Did  he  go  clear  in  under?"  asked  the 
race -track  man. 

"Yes,  sir,  he  sank  completely  out  of  sight, 
and  we  had  to  stand  there  helpless.  We 
couldn't  save  him.  I  understand  that  later 
in  the  summer  some  of  the  men  dug  down, 
out  of  curiosity,  to  see  how  far  he  had  sunk, 
and  they  had  to  dig  about  five  feet  before 
they  came  to  the  saddle." 

4 'Doc',  that  cigar  doesn't  seem  to  be  burn- 


8 


DOC'    HORNE 


ing  very  well,"  said  the  lush.     "Try  a  fresh 
one. ' ' 

Only  the  dentist  knew  that  this  tender  of 
the  cigar  was  an  act  of  surrender  on  the  part 
of  the  lush,  who  had  boasted  that  he  could 
tell  a  story  which  would  silence  Doc'  for  all 
evening. 


A   FRESH    CIGAR. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE    FIRST    SYMPTOM    OF    MATRIMONY 

The  lightning  dentist  stood  in  the  doorway 
of  the  Alfalfa  European  Hotel  and  looked 
out  at  the  dripping  street.  The  granite 
blocks  of  the  pavement  were  newly  washed, 
and  they  shone  in  surprised  cleanliness 
where  the  light  fell  on  them. 

A  hansom  cab  rolled  by,  the  horse  steam- 
ing and  the  driver  crouched  inside  a  great 
rubber  coat.  Only  one  light  could  be  seen 
in  the  big,  water-soaked  building  opposite, 
and  that  was  in  a  first-floor  office  where  a 
late  employe*  was  doubled  over  a  ledger. 

One  or  two  pedestrians  sloshed  along, 
bracing  their  umbrellas  against  the  cold 
wind.  The  lightning  dentist  turned  up  his 
coat  collar  and  shivered  with  sympathy.  A 
stronger  gust  of  wind  blew  the  raindrops 
against  his  face  and  he  retreated. 

He  saw  Doc'  Home,  the  actor  and  the 
lush  seated  in  drooping  silence  near  the 
steam  heater.  They  had  moved  their  chairs 
9 


io  DOC    HORNE 

toward  the  radiator  as  if  to  deceive  them- 
selves, but  they  knew  the  radiator  was 
the  coldest  thing  in  the  room.  Doc'  Home 
had  been  attempting  to  read  an  evening 
paper.  Even  the  paper  was  moist,  for 
it  did  not  crackle  when  he  folded  it  and  gave 
it  a  disgusted  fling. 

"Bad  night,"  observed  the  dentist, 
gloomily,  rubbing  his  hands. 

"Miserable,  miserable,"  said  Doc' 
Home. 

"It's  cold  in  this  office  to-night,"  said  the 
dentist  "I  wish  I  knew  where  to  go  or 
what  to  do. ' ' 

"We  might  go  into  the  bar  and  see 
Steve,"  said  the  lush,  hopefully. 

This  suggestion  was  received  in  silence. 

"Or,"  continued  the  lush,  "we  might  go 
up  to  my  room  and  send  down  for  some- 
thing to  drink.  Come  on ;  it  will  be  more 
comfortable  up  there." 

The  invitation  was  accepted  without  any 
enthusiasm.  Before  the  party  went  upstairs 
the  lush  sent  the  bell-boy  for  a  bottle  of 
whisky  and  a  large-sized  reservoir  of  seltzer. 

Whenever  the  lush  had  visitors  he 
always  made  these  preparations .  for  enter- 
taining them,  no  matter  whether  they  drank 


SYMPTOM    OF   MATRIMONY    n 


or  not.  Doc'  Home  was  a  total  abstainer. 
The  actor  was  a  cautious  drinker,  who,  when 
dragged  to  the  bar,  usually  compromised  on 
sweet  Catawba  wine  or  a  small  glass  of  beer. 
Even  the  lightning  dentist,  although  he  told 
stories  of  fabulous  expenditures  for  wine 
while  visiting  in  Cincinnati,  seldom  took 
more  than  one  drink  an  evening. 

Nevertheless,  the  lush  put  the  whisky, 
the  seltzer,  the  ice 
and  the  glasses  on 
the  table  in  his  room 
and  confidently  in- 
vited his  friends  to 
"drink  hearty." 
The  lightning  den- 
tist took  his  one 
drink,  although  he 
nearly  choked  in  the 
effort,  and  the  others 
mildly  protested  and 
asked  to  be  excused.  "OUR  HOST." 

The  lush  expressed  himself  as  disap- 
pointed at  their  failure  to  be  "good  fellows," 
and  drank  two  magnificent  "high  balls"  in 
order  to  rebuke  them.  Then  he  sat  on  the 
bed  and  at  intervals  thereafter  he  would 
point  at  the  bottles  on  the  table  and  look 


12  DOC'    HORNE 

inquiringly  at  his  guests,  who  never  failed 
to  shake  their  heads. 

The  conversation  had  gone  the  range  of 
commonplaces,  mostly  in  regard  to  the 
weather,  and  then  it  turned  upon  the  fact 
that  a  European  hotel  on  a  wet  and  chilly 
night  is  not  the  most  cheerful  place  in  the 
world. 

"Here  we  are,  gentlemen,  four  of  us," 
said  Doc'  Home.  "All  of  us  have 
reached  the  age  at  which  men  should  marry 
— perhaps  all  have  passed  the  age  at  which 
it  is  advisable  to  choose  a  helpmate." 

"That's  a  fact,  Doc',"  said  the  lush, 
reaching  for  the  seltzer. 

"Of  course,  matrimony  is  a  lottery.  Per- 
haps we  are  better  off  than  if  we  had  joined 
the  Benedicts,  but  on  a  night  like  this  it 
occurs  to  me  that  if  I  were  seated  before  my 
own  grate-fire  in  my  own  library,  with  my 
own  children  around  me,  I  would  be  happier 
than  I  am  here."  Doc'  made  a  reassuring 
gesture,  and  continued:  "I  don't  mean  to 
reflect  on  the  hospitality  of  our  friend  here 
or  intimate  that  I  am  not  satisfied  with  the 
present  company,  but " 

"Certainly,  we  understand,"  said  the 
actor. 


SYMPTOM    OF    MATRIMONY    13 

"If  we  were  to  own  up,  gentlemen,  I  sup- 
pose every  man-jack  of  us  came  very  near 
being  married  at  some  time  or  other." 

The  lush  softly  prepared  another 
"high-ball." 

"Doctor,  I  consider  it  quite  remarkable 
that  you  never  married,"  said  the  actor. 

"Maybe  he  couldn't  find  a  woman  good 
enough  for  him,"  suggested  the  dentist. 

"I  have  met  thousands  who  were  too 
good  for  any  man  who  ever  lived,"  replied 
Doc',  with  considerable  warmth.  "The 
problem  in  matrimony  is  not  to  find  a  good 
woman.  The  problem  is  to  find  a  woman 
who  will  be  sufficiently  patient  and  chari- 
table to  bear  with  the  faults  which  are  com- 
mon to  the  sex  represented  here  this 
evening." 

"The  ladies,"  said  the  lush,  arising 
from  the  bed  and  holding  out  the  glass  as  if 
to  offer  a  toast. 

"Sit  down!"  commanded  the  dentist. 

"It  is  largely  a  question  of  compatibility," 
continued  Doc'.  "Harmless  compound 
No.  i — harmless  compound  No.  2.  You  put 
them  together  and  the  result  is  an  explosive. 
Poison  No.  i  added  to  poison  No.  2  gives  a 
harmless  neutral.  Two  beautiful  colors — 


14  DOC'    HORNE 

put  them  together  and  you  have  discord. 
Matrimony  is  often  a  plunge  in  the  dark. 
The  man  never  knows  whether  he  will  land 
on  a  bed  of  roses  or  in  a  nest  of  thorns. 
That  is,  he  doesn't  know  unless  he  has  a 
knowledge  of  women  based  on  the  study  of 
many  marriages  and  the  resulting  experi- 
ences. Now  I  know  just  what  kind  of  a  wife 
I  ought  to  have,  but  it  has  required  many 
years  of  study  for  me  to  find  it  out.  I  know 
you  gentlemen  fairly  well.  I  know  the  kind 
of  wife  that  each  of  you  ought  to " 

"Do  you,  for  a  fact,  Doc'?"  asked  the  den- 
tist, eagerly. 

"What  kind  *v  wife  I  ought  to  have, 
Doc'?"  asked  the  lush. 

"None — just  at  present,"  replied  Doc', 
closing  his  lips  tightly. 

"Thanks,"  and  he  reached  for  the  bottle. 

"Doc',  you  said  a  while  ago  that  probably 
everyone  of.  us  had  come  very  near  being 
married  at  some  time  or  other,"  put  in  the 
dentist.  "Now,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  how 
near  did  you  ever  come  to  it?" 

"I  was  married  once,"  said  Doc',  quietly. 

"Wha-a-at!" 

"I  was  and  I  was  not.  I  am  a  single  man 
in  the  United  States.  In  Brazil,  at  this 


SYMPTOM   OF   MATRIMONY    15 

minute,  I  would  be  a  married  man,  provided 
Rita  is  still  living." 

"What's  her  name— Rita?" 

"Yes,  I  haven't  seen  her  in  thirty  years. 
That's  rather  a  long  time  for  a  man  to 
remain  away  from  his  wife,  eh?" 

He  winked  at  the  dentist  and  shook  with 
inward  laughter.  They  waited. 

"The  circumstances  were  rather  pecu- 
liar," began  Doc',  gazing  hard  at  the  floor. 
"It  was  in,  let's  see — yes,  1866.  I  was  in 
New  York  that  spring  to  transact  some  busi- 
ness, and  while  there  I  became  acquainted 
with  a  Brazilian  named  Miguel  Bartos,  a 
coffee  planter.  He  had  been  visiting  in 
New  York  and  I  had  met  him  at  a  club 
there.  He  was  about  to  return  to  Brazil  on 
a  sailing  vessel  that  he  owned,  and  he 
invited  me  to  go  as  far  as  Savannah  with 
him.  They  were  to  touch  at  Savannah,  I 
remember,  to  get  the  mail  and  some  small 
supplies.  I  had  a  little  time  at  my  disposal, 
so  I  accepted  the  invitation.  1  didn't  know 
until  after  we  sailed  that  Senor  Bartos 

"I  knew  him  well,"  said  the  lush. 

"I  didn't  know  that  he  had  a-  daughter," 
continued  Doc',  ignoring  the  interruption. 
"She  was  a  perfect  specimen  of  the  Spanish 


16  DOC'    HORNE 

type  of  beauty — olive  complexion,  dark  hair 
and  the  most  wonderful  eyes  I  ever  saw. 
Senor  Bartos  and  the  daughter,  his  business 
partner,  named  Pramada,  and  I,  were  the 
only  passengers  on  board.  The  captain  was 
a  Spaniard,  the  first  mate  an  American  who 
had  lived  in  the  tropics  for  years,  and  the 
crew  was  made  up  entirely  of  Brazilians. 
Well,  we  had  lovely  weather,  and,  very 
naturally,  I  was  thrown  into  the  society  of 
the  senorita  much  of  the  time.  I  showed 
her  many  attentions,  but  no  more  than  I 
thought  were  due  from  any  American 
gentleman  under  the  circumstances.  I 
didn't  realize  until  it  was  too  late  that  she 
was  completely  infatuated  with  me." 

"How  could  she  help  herself?"  asked  the 
lush. 

"Now,  sir!"  said  Doc',  turning  on  the 
lush,  "will  you  allow  me  to  continue?" 

"Sure  thing,"  replied  the  lush,  with  a 
faltering  salute. 

"If  I  had  remembered  Spanish  customs, 
particularly  as  they  are  localized  in  Brazil,  I 
wouldn't  have  allowed  myself  to  become 
entangled.  She  was  a  young  girl,  and  I 
was  considerably  her  senior  and  did  not 
realize  the  significance  of  what  I  did.  One 


SYMPTOM    OF    MATRIMONY     17 

evening1,  in  the  presence  of  her  father,  I 
kissed  her.  You  must  remember  that  she 
was  quite  young.  I  regarded  her  as  a  mere 
child.  Even  at  that  I  would  not  have  pre- 
sumed to  take  such  a  liberty  had  she  not 
suggested  it  in  a  bantering  spirit.  Her 
father  was  present,  and  I  saw  no  harm  in  it 
so  long  as  he  did  not  object.  You  may  be 
able  to  appreciate  my  surprise  and  conster- 
nation, gentlemen,  when  Senor  Bartos  called 
rne  into  the  cabin  next  day  and  informed 
me  in  all  seriousness  that  according  to 
Brazilian  custom,  when  an  unmarried  man 
kisses  a  woman  of  eligible  age  the  act  is 
equivalent  to  a  betrothal  and  may  be 
regarded  as  a  marriage  under  the  common 
law.  He  said  that  his  daughter  loved  me, 
and  that  he  was  willing  to  give  a  handsome 
dowry,  but  he  would  insist  that  I  proceed  to 
Brazil  with  them  and  have  an  additional 
ceremony  performed  in  the  cathedral. 
When  I  showed  my  surprise  and  told  him  I 
had  no  intention  of  marrying  his  daughter 
he  drew  a  dagger  and  would  have  stabbed 
me  if  Senor  Pramada  had  not  restrained 
him.  I  was  told  that  I  would  be  killed  if  I 
failed  to  carry  out  the  marriage  contract. 
Well,  there  I  was.  I  pretended  to  consent, 


i8  DOC'    HORNE 

but  I  was  determined  to  escape  when  the 
vessel  touched  at  Savannah.  I  knew  every 
man  on  board  had  been  cautioned  to  watch 
me  and  prevent  my  escape.  I  had  to  proceed 
with  secrecy,  but  I  managed  to  get  the  first 
mate  on  my  side.  He  promised  to  help  me. 
"Well,  when  we  anchored  off  Savannah 
the  captain  and  Senor  Bartos  went  ashore 
and  got  my  mail,  but  I  was  given  to  under- 
stand that  I  must  not  leave  the  vessel.  One 
of  the  letters  that  I  received  made  it  neces- 
sary that  I  should  be  in  Pittsburg  in  a  few 
days,  and  I  was  more  than  ever  determined 
to  get  away.  Late  that  night  the  mate  and 
I  slipped  on  deck  and  dropped  one  of  the 
boats  into  the  water.  Just  as  we  jumped 
into  the  boat  Senor  Barlos  came  on  deck  and 
began  to  fire  at  us.  We  pulled  away,  and  he 
put  a  knife  into  his  mouth  and  jumped  over- 
board to  follow  us.  Of  course  we  could  have 
escaped  him,  but  I  was  afraid  he  would 
drown,  so  we  put  back  and  I  hauled  him  out 
of  the  water.  He  was  nearly  exhausted, 
but  still  full  of  deviltry,  for  he  made  a 
vicious  lunge  at  me  with  the  knife,  but  I 
grabbed  his  arm  and  took  the  weapon  away 
from  him  and  then  I  gave  him  a  good  hard 
talking  to.  I  said:  'Senor  Bartos,  I  claim 


SYMPTOM    OF    MATRIMONY     19 

to  be  a  man  of  honor,  and  I  would  not 
violate  any  promise,  however  lightly  made, 
but  you  cannot  come  up  into  this  part  of  the 
world  and  enforce  your  South  American 
customs.  I  respect  your  daughter  as  a 
charming  and  innocent  girl,  but  I  do  not 
propose  to  marry  her  under  compulsion.  I 
am  going  ashore  here.  You  may  go  back  to 
the  vessel. '  Well,  the  mate  went  ashore 
with  me.  If  they  had  ever  got  hold  of  him 
they  would  have  murdered  him  for  helping 
me  to  escape.  I  never  heard  anything  more 
of  them  after  that. " 

"It's  a  good  thing  that  Brazilian  law 
doesn't  hold  in  this  country,"  said  the 
dentist. 

"Our  host  is  dead  to  the  world,"  observed 
the  actor.  They  turned  and  saw  that  the 
lush  had  dropped  over  on  the  pillows  and 
fallen  asleep. 

"Let  him  rest,"  said  Doc'.  "I  expect 
we  had  better  go  out.  Just  turn  down  the 
gas.  He'll  sleep  all  right  as  he  lies." 

So  they  went  out,  leaving  their  host  under 
the  peaceful  influence. 

As  Doc'  moved  along  the  hallway 
toward  his  room  the  lightning  dentist  fol- 
lowed him. 


20 


DOC'    HORNE 


4 'Can  I  see  3-011  alone  for  a  little  while?" 
he  asked. 

4 'Certainly,    my   dear  sir,"  replied    Doc', 
with    an    acquiescent    wave 
of  the  hand.     "Come  right 
into  my  room." 

Doc'  fumbled  in  the  dark- 
ness until  he  found  a  match, 
and  then  he  lighted  the 
gas.     The  dentist  slowly 
settled   into    a   chair 
and   held  his   hat  in 
front  of  him. 

"Doc',  this—  this 
mustn't  go  any 
farther  than  you, ' '  he 
said,  with  some  em- 
barrassment. 

"I   never    betrayed  a 
life." 

"It's  something  I  wouldn't  think  of  men- 
tioning to  any  one  else  around  the  hotel." 

"Whatever  it  may  be,  it  will  be  safe  in  my 
hands." 

"I  know  that.  I'll  tell  you  what  has 
induced  me  to  speak.  A  little  while  ago 
you  were  speaking  of  matrimony  and  you 
compared  it  to  a  plunge  in  the  dark.  You 


THE   LIGHTNING 
DENTIST. 


confidence    in   my 


SYMPTOM    OF   MATRIMONY    21 

said  that  a  man  never  knew  where  he  was 
going  to  land." 

"I  qualified  that  statement." 

"I  know  you  did,  but  that  and  some  more 
things  you  said  put  me  to  thinking.  This  is 
what  I  wanted  to  tell  you,  and  you  mustn't 
whisper  a  word  of  it  to  any  one  else.  I'd 
like  to  get  married. ' ' 

Doc'  looked  at  him  with  grave  interest, 
and  rubbed  his  nose. 

"I  don't  blame  you,"  he  said.  "You  heard 
my  views  this  evening. ' ' 

"Yes,  but  some  of  the  things  you  said 
later  on  kind  o'  scared  me.  I'd  hate  to 
make  any  mistake  and  get  tied  up  to  the 
wrong  girl. ' ' 

"There  is  no  reason  why  you  should  make 
any  mistake  if  you  are  properly  advised. 
You  are  a  good-looking  man,  still  young, 
well-dressed,  established  in  a  profession,  fair 
prospects,  I  dare  say,  and " 

"I've  got  more  money  put  away  than  any- 
body in  this  hotel  knows  anything  about," 
said  the  dentist,  his  voice  trembling  with 
gratification  at  Doc's  studied  eulogy.  "I 
sold  the  lots  the  other  day  that  I've  been 
holding.  I  cleared  up  a  thousand.  Next 
year  I  expect  to  have  an  interest  in  the 


22  DOC    HORNE 

Neapolitan  Dental  Parlors,  where  I'm  work- 
ing now.  It's  a  sure  money-maker.  Doc', 
we've  got  ten  men  at  work  now,  and  I  have 
enough  extracting  alone  to  keep  me  busy 
most  of  the  time.  We're  doubling  our 
advertising  contracts,  and  I  feel  so  sure  of 
staying  there  and  making  a  good  thing  out 
of  it  that  I  want  to  settle  down  and  have  a 
nice  little  home  of  my  own.  A  man  can't 
stand  this  hotel  life  forever." 

"True,  true.  I  don't  want  to  be  inquis- 
itive, but  is  there  any  one  in  particular 
that " 

"No,  because  I've  simply  lived  between 
office  and  hotel.  But  I'm  going  to  look 
around.  I'm  going  to  find  a  nice  girl — and 
I  tell  you  what  I  want  you  to  do  for  me, 
Doc'.  Before  I  make  any  definite  move  or 
commit  myself — understand? — I  want  you  to 
meet  the  girl  and  give  me  your  candid  opin- 
ion. I  don't  want  to  make  any  mistake.  I 
heard  you  say  that  you  could  pick  out  the 
right  kind  of  a  wife  for  any  one  of  your 
friends,  and  I  want  you  to  promise  that 
you'll — well,  not  exactly  pick  out  one  for 
me,  but  help  me  to  select  one.  I  don't 
know  whether  you  just  understand  or 
not. " 


SYMPTOM    OF   MATRIMONY    23 

"I  think  I  do.  I  am  at  your  service  at  any 
time. ' ' 

So  this  compact  was  made :  that  after  the 
dentist  had  " looked  around"  and  selected  a 
young  woman,  Doc'  should  inspect  her 
and  give  an  expert  opinion  based  on  his  vast 
experience  with  the  sex. 


THE   ALFALFA   EUROPEAN   HOTEL. 


2.1 


CHAPTER    III 

THE     ALFALFA     EUROPEAN     HOTEL 

Chicago  is  a  city  made  up  of  country 
people.  It  is  a  metropolis  having  a  few 
saving  virtues  of  a  village.  It  is  spread 
over  so  many  square  miles  of  prairie  and  has 
so  many  farms  alternating  with  scanty 
suburbs  that  no  one  has  been  able  to  draw 
the  line  between  urban  and  suburban,  or  the 
line  between  suburban  and  rural.  When 
one  is  in  State  Street  he  finds  proof  that 
Chicago  is  urban,  suburban  and  rural. 

In  1880  the  population  was  500,000  and  a 
few  over.  In  1900  it  is  to  be  2,000,000, 
census  or  no  census.  Ask  any  real  estate 
man.  Was  not  a  club  organized  in  1896  to 
concede  the  2,000,000  mark? 

Whence  came  the  1,500,000  increase? 
From  Germany,  Italy,  Sweden,  Norway, 
Ireland,  Poland,  Russia,  China,  Austria, 
Greece,  and  any  other  country  you  choose 
to  name.  Also  from  all  those  towns  set  in 
close  columns  in  the  United  States  Postal 
Guide. 

25 


26  DOC'    HORNE 

Not  long  ago,  before  the  Spanish-Ameri- 
can war  was  fought  and  while  women  still 
wore  puff  sleeves,  there  stood  in  a  street 
toward  the  smoky  center  of  town  a  hotel, 
not  of  the  first  class.  The  building  was  thin, 
and  might  have  appeared  tall  but  for  the  fact 
that  it  was  overtopped  by  two  mountainous 
structures,  shutting  out  the  eastern  sky.  The 
street  front  was  mostly  buffet,  but  there  was 
a  hallway  leading  back  to  a  dim  apartment, 
called  the  office,  and  here  there  were  chairs 
and  a  counter,  and  behind  the  counter  a  box 
of  pigeon-holes- for  keys  and  letters.  From 
the  office  a  stairway  and  an  elevator  shaft 
led  to  the  upper  region  of  narrow  hallways 
and  cramped  bedchambers. 

It  was  the  Alfalfa  European  Hotel. 
Alfalfa,  because  the  name  had  a  pleasing 
sound;  European,  because  no  meals  were 
served  in  the  house. 

Of  the  men  who  lived  at  the  Alfalfa  Hotel, 
either  as  transient  guests  or  on  arrangement 
for  a  weekly  rate,  the  one  worth  knowing 
was  Calvin  Home,  called  Doc'  Home  by 
his  familiars.  His  age  cannot  be  given. 
He  never  told  it.  He  was  bald  on  the  top  of 
his  head.  His  face  had  the  fullness  of 
youth,  hut  it  was  wrinkled.  The  chin  beard 


ALFALFA   EUROPEAN    HOTEL  27 

was  white.  When  it  is  said,  further,  that  he 
wore  clothes  such  as  might  be  worn  by  any 
old  gentleman  who  had  ceased  to  be  fastidi- 
ous on  the  point  of  personal  adornment,  the 
reader  knows  as  much  as  any  one  would 
know  in  taking  a  first  glance  at  Doc' 
Home  as  he  sat  in  the  office  of  the  Alfalfa 
European  Hotel  with  his  satellites  grouped 
about  him.  His  daily  employment  at  the 
time  of  the  beginning  of  this  story  called 
him  to  the  Federal  offices,  where  he  checked 
pension  lists  or  classified  vouchers  or  per- 
formed some  other  kind  of  labor  quite 
unsuited  to  him.  Doc'  overshadowed  his 
occupation,  and  it  is  doubtful  if  there  will  be 
another  reference  to  it  anywhere  in  this 
book. 

In  the  succeeding  pages,  when  it  is  related 
that  Doc'  and  his  companions  moved  in 
and  about  the  hotel,  it  is  not  to  be  concluded 
that  they  had  the  hotel  to  themselves. 
Many  strangers  came  to  the  desk  and 
claimed  their  keys  and  rode  upward  in  the 
tremulous  elevator.  Men  whose  names  do 
not  appear  and  whose  comments  will  be 
suppressed  stood  at  a  respectful  distance  and 
heard  what  Doc'  had  to  say  of  love  and  life. 
Mr.  Ike  Francis,  proprietor,  is  somewhere  in 


28 


DOC'    HORNE 


the  office,  smoking  a  pipe,  and  other  persons 
are  in  the  background,  reading  newspapers. 
These  are  mere  details  of  the  setting  and 
will  not  be  pointed  out  again. 

To    recur     to    the 
original   proposition, 
that  Chicago  is  a  city 
made  up  of   country 
people :    one  evening 
Doc'  sat  in  the  office 
and  told  a  chapter  to 
an  actor  from  a  farm 
in  Ohio,    a   drinking 
man  from  a  village  in 
New   York,    a   light- 
ning dentist  from  an 
THE  ALFALFA  QUINTETTE,    interior  county  of  In- 
diana, and  a  race-track  man  from  the  blue- 
grass  part  of  Kentucky. 

They  were  talking  of  women,  and  the 
topic  lasted  well  at  the  Alfalfa  Hotel,  as 
elsewhere.  The  actor  had  said  that  once 
upon  a  time  he  went  up  a  ladder  and  into  a 
burning  house  to  save  a  young  woman. 
That  reminded  Doc'  Home  of  Crosby- 
ville. 

"Let's  see — I  spent  two  or  three  years  in 
Crosby ville,  off  and  on,"  he  began,  "and 


ALFALFA    EUROPEAN    HOTEL    29 

this  must  have  happened  in  the  fall  of  '51 
or  the  spring  of  '52.  I  remember  that  I  left 
Crosbyville  just  about  the  time  of  the  presi- 
dential campaign,  and  that  was — well,  it 
must  have  been  about  June,  '52.  No 
matter;  the  date  doesn't  make  any  differ- 
ence. 

''In  order  that  you  may  understand  this 
story  better,  I'll  have  to  go  back  a  little. 
The  first  time  I  ever  visited  in  Crosbyville 
I  was  invited  out  to  a  shooting-match.  We 
didn't  shoot  at  glass  balls  or  live  pigeons  in 
those  days.  We  usually  put  a  white  square 
of  paper  up  against  a  tree  and  blazed  away 
at  it  with  rifles,  and,  although  our  firearms 
were  of  defective  bore,  I  can  assure  you  that 
some  of  the  best  shooting  I  ever  saw  was  at 
these  old-time  matches  out  in  the  woods. 
However,  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  the 
story. 

"One  of  my  friends  invited  me  to  go  to 
the  shooting-match,  and  after  I  got  out  there 
I  was  asked  to  enter  the  contest.  Well,  I 
went  in  and  I  happened  to  get  a  rifle  that 
sighted  just  right  for  me,  and  I  won.  A 
man  who  had  been  introduced  to  me  as  Capt. 
Jaynes  made  the  next  highest  score.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  the  other  contestants  took 


30  DOC'    HORNE 

their  defeat  good-naturedly,  but  on  the  way 
home  my  friend  told  me  to  look  out  for  this 
Capt.  Jaynes.  He  was  a  hot-headed  Ken- 
.tuckian,  and  it  seems  that  this  was  the  first 
•time  he  had  been  defeated  in  years,  and  it 
worried  him  a  good  deal.  My  friend  told 
me  that  he  had  taken  a  dislike  to  me  and 
would  probably  try  to  pick  a  quarrel  at  the 
first  opportunity. 

"Well,  that  same  afternoon  I  invited  all 
the  men  who  had  been  at  the  shooting-match 
to  come  over  to  the  tavern.  It  was  custom- 
ary for  the  winner  of  the  match  to  stand 
treat  to  the  others.  Capt.  Jaynes  came  in 
rather  late,  while  we  were  all  sitting  round 
and  talking.  I  arose  and  asked  him  to  join 
the  party.  He  bowed  very  coldly  and  said 
that  he  was  not  in  the  habit  of  drinking  with 
strangers.  Now,  I  was  rather  touchy  in  my 
younger  days.  I  said:  'Very  well,  captain; 
-I  withdraw  the  invitation.  I  made  the  mis- 
take of  supposing  that  you  would  feel  at 
home  in  a  company  of  gentlemen. '  I  knew 
what  to  expect  when  I  said  that.  He 
started  to  draw  a  knife,  but  before  he  could 
lift  it  I  had  hold  of  him.  They  pulled  us 
apart  and  tried  to  quiet  him,  but  he  went 
away  raving  mad.  They  all  said  he  would 


ALFALFA  EUROPEAN    HOTEL   31 

kill  me  the  first  time  we  met,  but  he  must 
have  cooled  down  when  he  had  time  to  think 
it  over.  I  saw  him  often  after  that — passed 
him  on  the  street.  He  never  made  a  move, 
but  I  knew  that  he  hated  me  and  would  be 
glad  of  a  chance  to  do  me  an  injury. 

"The  captain's  house  was  right  on  the 
bank  of  the  Green  River,  and  stood  near  his 
mill.  It  was  an  old-fashioned  two-story 
house,  very  broad  and  well  built,  and  thickly 
surrounded  by  trees.  It  was  considered  the 
best  house  in  Crosby  ville.  The  captain  was 
the  wealthiest  and  one  of  the  most  prominent 
citizens  of  the  town.  He  was  a  widower 
and  had  two  children — a  son  of  fourteen  or 
so,  and  a  daughter  named  Elizabeth.  She 
was  a  very  beautiful  girl — very  charming. 
I  had  met  her  several  times,  but,  of  course, 
I  had  never  become  well  acquainted  with 
her  on  account  of  my  standing  feud  with  her 
father. 

"Well,  to  make  a  long  story  short,  the 
whole  town  was  aroused  by  an  alarm  of  fire 
one  night,  and  when  we  turned  out  the 
Jaynes'  mill  was  one  mass  of  flames.  It  was 
an  old-style  structure,  with  a  framework  of 
heavy  logs,  and  it  made  a  fearful  blaze. 
The  wind  was  blowing  the  flames  toward  the 


32  DOC'    HORNE 

house.  Every  one  saw  that  it  was  no  iise  to 
try  and  save  the  mill,  so  we  turned  in  to 
defend  the  house — got  up  on  the  roof  and 
passed  buckets  and  put  out  wet  blankets  to 
catch  the  sparks,  but  all  in  vain,  gentlemen, 
all  in  vain.  The  men  were  driven  off  the 
roof,  and  the  water  dried  as  fast  as  it  was 
thrown  on.  All  at  once  one  whole  side  of 
the  house  seemed  to  spring  into  a  flame. 
There  was  a  general  shout,  and  everybody 
retreated  to  a  safe  distance.  The  members 
of  the  family  and  the  neighbors  had  been 
removing  the  household  goods.  Just  as  the 
house  caught  fire,  and  all  the  men  were  get- 
ting out  of  it  as  fast  as  they  could,  I  heard 
Elizabeth  Jaynes  cry  out:  'The  canary!1 
Then  she  ran  back  into  the  house,  with 
every  one  calling  to  her  to  stop.  I  didn't 
hesitate  a  moment,  I  assure  you.  She  went 
through  that  terrific  heat  and  dense  smoke 
right  up  the  stairway,  and  I  followed.  I 
caught  her  by  the  arm  at  the  top  of  the  stairs 
and  told  her  to  come  back.  She  was  hyster- 
ical and  excited — said  she  wouldn't  leave 
until  she  got  the  bird.  In  spite  of  all  I 
could  do  she  pulled  away  from  me  and  ran 
to  the  front  room — her  bedroom,  I  believe — 
and  felt  her  way  to  where  the  bird-cage  was 


ALFALFA    EUROPEAN    HOTEL   33 

hanging.  Gentlemen,  it  was  never  any 
hotter  in  any  bake-oven  than  it  was  in  that 
room.  As  soon  as  she  got  the  bird-cage  I 
dragged  her  back  through  the  hall.  The 
smoke  was  not  so  thick  now  because  the  fire 
had  got  a  free  draught  through  the  house 
and  was  making  a  fearful  roar  and  spreading 
rapidly.  When  we  reached  the  stairway  the 
whole  lower  end  of  it  was  ablaze.  I  dragged 
the  girl  away  to  the  front  window,  but  by 
that  time  the  whole  veranda  was  on  fire. 
The  crowd  outside  saw  us,  and  shouted 
something — I  couldn't  tell  what.  I  saw 
there  was  no  escape  over  that  burning 
veranda.  When  the  people  shouted,  the  girl 
fainted  dead  away.  I  threw  her  across  my 
shoulder  and  started  for  the  rear  of  the 
house,  because  I  knew  that  was  my  only 
salvation.  The  whole  stairway  was  ablaze 
by  that  time,  and  flames  were  creeping  up 
through  the  floor.  I  closed  my  lips  tightly 
and  in  about  four  leaps  I  reached  a  back 
window.  Outside  there  was  a  big  tree, 
almost  brushing  the  window.  I  kicked  out 
the  window  sash  and  simply  jumped  into  the 
tree.  It  was  the  only  thing  to  be  done. 
Luckily,  I  got  my  arm  over  a  limb,  which 
sagged  with  us  and  dropped  us  to  the 


34 


DOC'    HORNE 


ground.  I  scrambled  to  my  feet  and  ran, 
with  the  girl  still  hanging  absolutely  limp 
and  helpless  over  my  shoulder.  I  went 
straight  for  the  river  with  the  intention  of 
jumping  in.  The  heat  was  something 
awful.  It  had  driven  away  the  men  who 
had  been  filling  their  buckets  at  the  river. 

"Just  as  I  stag- 
gered down  the  river 
bank  I  saw  a  skiff. 
Some  one  had  proba- 
bly rowed  across  the 
river  to  the  fire,  for 
the  boat  was  not  fast- 
ened. I  dropped  the 
girl  into  the  boat  and 
gave  it  a  strong  push 
out  into  the  current, 
and  in  a  few  seconds 
we  were  floating 
down  stream  and 
were  safe." 
'She  had  the  canary,  I  suppose?"  said  the 
lightning  dentist. 

"Oh,  yes.  She  was  in  a  dead  faint,  but 
she  hadn't  let  go  of  the  cage.  As  soon  as  I 
recovered  my  breath  and  wet  my  clothes  in 
two  or  three  places  where  they  were  on  fire, 


=L    '  / 


TELLING    ABOUT    IT. 


ALFALFA   EUROPEAN   HOTEL   35 

I  splashed  water  in  the  girl's  face  and  she 
recovered  consciousness,  but  was  still  hys- 
terical and  did  not  seem  to  realize  fully 
what  had  happened. 

"We  could  look  up  the  river  and  see  the 
burning  house.  It  made  a  huge  blaze  and 
threw  a  bright  glare  across  the  river.  I 
remember  the  peculiar  effect  of  this  glare  on 
the  windows  of  the  houses  across  the  river. 
It  caused  them  to  glow  as  if  the  houses  were 
filled  with  live  flames.  The  girl  was  so 
frightened  that  she  thought  all  the  houses 
were  afire. 

"When  I  got  ready  to  row  back  I  discov- 
ered that  I  hadn't  any  oars.  The  current 
was  swift  and  we  were  drifting  rapidly,  so  I 
pulled  out  a  seat-board  and  used  it  as  a 
rudder,  and  in  a  few  minutes  I  made  a  land- 
ing near  a  house  occupied  by  a  Mr.  Wesley. 
Miss  Jaynes  was  so  weak  and  nervous  that 
she  could  hardly  walk,  but  I  assisted  her  to 
this  house  and  aroused  the  family. 

"The  woman  of  the  house  was  very  kind. 
She  cared  for  the  young  lady  for  about  two 
hours  and  had  one  of  the  boys  drive  us  back 
to  Crosbyville.  Now,  in  the  general  excite- 
ment we  had  forgotten  that  the  people  in 
Crosbyville  had  every  reason  to  believe  that 


36  DOC'    HORNE 

we  had  perished  in  the  flames.  You  couldn't 
blame  them  for  thinking  so.  The  window 
from  which  I  had  leaped  was  well  hidden  by 
trees,  and  there  was  no  one  at  the  river 
bank  when  we  leaped  into  the  boat.  We 
learned  afterward  that  the  men  had  pulled 
down  the  burning  veranda  and  had  planted 
a  ladder  at  the  front  window  where  we  had 
been  seen,  but  the  blaze  was  so  fierce  thai 
they  had  been  driven  back. 

"As  I  say,  every  one  supposed  that  we 
were  lost;  so  you  can  imagine  what  hap- 
pened when  we  drove  up  in  front  of  the 
ruins  about  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
They  were  already  searching  for  our  bodies. 
Yes,  sir;  they  thought  we  were  ghosts.  As 
soon  as  I  explained  to  them  how  we  got 
away  you  never  heard  such  cheering  in  your 
life.  They  lifted  Miss  Jaynes  out  of  the 
wagon  and  took  her  over  to  a  neighboring 
house,  to  which  the  captain  had  been  taken. 
The  man  was  almost  wild  with  grief.  Those 
who  went  over  to  the  house  say  it  was  one  of 
the  most  affecting  meetings  that  could  be 
imagined.  First  he  wept  like  a  baby  and 
then  he  jumped  up  and  laughed  like  a  boy 
and  said  he  didn't  care  for  the  loss  of  his 
buildings  so  long  as  his  daughter  was  safe. 


ALFALFA   EUROPEAN    HOTEL    37 

I  suppose  his  daughter  must  have  given  him 
a  very  favorable  account  of  my  efforts  in  her 
behalf,  for  presently  he  came  out  of  the 
house  and  walked  up  to  where  I  was  stand- 
ing and  said:  'Mr.  Home,  you  have  done  me 
the  greatest  service  that  one  man  can  do 
another.  All  that  I  have  is  at  your  com- 
mand now  and  forever.  I  once  did  you  an 
injustice.  You  have  repaid  me.  Will  you 
take  the  hand  of  a  man  who  honestly  admits 
himself  beaten  and  humiliated?'  1  said  to 
him:  'Captain,  you  are  a  brave  and  gallant 
man,  but  you  were  mistaken  for  once.  Let 
us  say  no  more  about  the  misunderstandings 
of  the  past.'  We  shook  hands,  and  from  that 
day  forward  we  were  friends.  He  was  a 
man  of  passions  and  prejudices,  but  if  he 
came  to  know  you  and  like  you  he  was  the 
truest  friend  a  man  ever  had." 

"There's  only  one  thing  needed-  to  make 
that  a  good  story,"  suggested  the  dentist. 
44  You  ought  to  say  that  you  married  the  cap- 
tain's daughter." 

"I  am  not  going  to  sacrifice  truth  in  order 
to  make  a  fancy  romance,"  replied  Doc'. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  GALLANTRY  OF  THE  HORNES 

Taking  your  first  glance  at  the  Alfalfa 
colony  you  would  not  have  supposed  that 
these  men,  taken  collectively  or  individu- 
ally, could  have  lured  a  resisting  woman 
from  the  other  side  of  the  street.  The 
men  were  not  youthful,  and  only  one  of 
them  strove  to  be  a  thing  of  beauty. 

The  lightning  dentist  sought  color  effects. 
When  he  came  to  the  street  doorway  in 
light  checked  trousers,  saffron-colored  vest 
and  blue  coat,  his  knotted  four-in-hand 
cravat  darting  into  the  crack  of  his  shirt- 
bosom  at  a  point  some  two  inches  below  the 
collar,  and  his  hands  clammy  from  perfumed 
toilet  soap,  he  seemed  to  feel  that  he  was 
doing  more  than  his  share  to  make  this 
world  a  pleasant  place  of  abode. 

The  actor  had  a  sort  of  reminiscent  splen- 
dor which  commanded  respect,  if  not  admi- 
ration. His  attire  and  his  bearing  suggested 
the  pathos  of  a  summer  pavilion  with  snow 
on  the  roof.  His  garments  fitted  him,  but 
38 


GALLANTRY   OF   THE    HORNES      39 


here  and  there  a  pin  had  to  serve  for  a  but- 
ton, and  sometimes  the  cuffs  were  frayed 
and  cracked.  The  actor  seemed  to  have  the 
hopeful  impression  that  he  could  atone  for 
other  shortcomings  in  his  appearance  by 
putting  an  extra  polish  on  his  shoes  and 
allowing  part  of  a  slightly  soiled  handker- 
chief to  protrude  from  his  upper  coat 
pocket. 

The  drinking  man,  often 
mentioned  as  the  lush,  wore 
the  plain  garb  of  a  man  who 
selects  the  material  and 
gives  no  directions  as  to  the 
cut.  The  race-track 


man  favored  the 
styles  of  his  boy- 
hood days.  His 
shoes  were  rather 
box  -  toed,  and  his  ' 
cravat  was  a  black 
string  pulled  into 
a  bow. 

Were  these  men,  lolling  in  the  shiny  arm- 
chairs, born  to  smile  at  women  and  lead 
them  captive?  Doubt  it  if  you  will,  but  it 
is  a  fact  that  each  of  them  (Doc',  the 
lush,  the  dentist,  the  actor  and  the  race- 


THE  PROPRIETOR. 


40  DOC'    HORNE 

track  man)  had  been  a  principal  in  a  love 
affair.  Each  had  confessed. 

Women  of  quality,  every  one  of  them. 
No  names  were  given,  but  "she"  invariabty 
"belonged  to  one  of  the  best  families  in 
town,"  and  she  came  out  of  the  story  blame- 
less, for  her  protector  sat  near.  Doc' 
Home  permitted  no  man  to  speak  in  dispar- 
agement of  the  absent  sex. 

His  nodding  plume  you  could  not  see. 
The  weak  gaslight  struck  no  glitter  from  his 
breastplate.  The  extended  hand  grasped 
no  lance,  of  the  kind  that  might  get  in  the 
way  and  trip  up  the  race-track  man  or  the 
actor.  Yet  the  plume  and  the  cuirass  and 
the  lance  were  there.  Chivalry  lived  again. 

Time  and  again  Doc'  routed  the  dull 
cynicism  which  usually  nourishes  in  a  hotel 
lobby.  One  evening  the  actor,  believing 
that  he  had  discerned  a  great  truth, 
observed  that  an  outsider  ought  never  to 
interfere  in  a  quarrel  between  husband  and 
wife. 

"That's  right,"  said  the  dentist.  "You 
know  the  old  story  of  the  fellow  who  tried  to 
stop  a  man  from  beating  his  wife.  When  he 
tried  to  part  them,  both  turned  in  and  gave 
him  a  terrible  licking. ' ' 


GALLANTRY   OF   THE   HORNES      41 

"Gentlemen,  I'm  sorry  that  I  cannot  fully 
agree  with  you,"  said  Doc'  Home,  after  a 
satisfying  pull  at  his  cigar.  "I  admit  that 
it  is  seldom  advisable  to  take  any  part  in 
family  quarrels,  but  when  a  woman  is  in 
danger  of  bodily  harm  it  is  the  duty  of  any 
gentleman  to  protect  her,  even  at  the  risk  of 
his  life.  It  may  be  that  I  regard  these 
things  differently,  but  I  was  educated  in  the 
old  school,  and  my  father  always  impressed 
upon  me  the  fact  that  gallantry  was  an 
instinct  among  the  Homes.  The  other  day 
I  offered  my  seat  to  a  young  lady.  She 
seemed  rather  surprised,  and  said,  'Really, 
sir,  I  don't  like  to  take  the  seat;  you  are  an 
old  man!'  I  said  to  her,  'My  dear  madam, 
I  am  always  young  in  the  presence  of  the 
fair  sex. '  ' 

"You  want  to  be  careful,  Doc',"  sug- 
gested the  dentist. 

"And  then  you  got  off  at  the  next  cor- 
ner?" asked  the  lush. 

"No,  sir,  I  did  not.  I  want  to  tell  you 
younger  men  another  thing.  There  is  too 
much  false  gallantry  these  days.  Any  one 
of  you  would  jump  up  to  give  your  seat  to  a 
stylish  and  beautiful  young  lady,  but  you'd 
let  a  poor,  tired  washerwoman  ride  from 


42  DOC    HORNE 

here  to  Englewood  hanging  on  to  one  of 
those  straps.  My  father  always  taught  me 
to  respect  the  sex  without  regard  to  social 
conditions.  Why,  the  worst  fight  I  ever  had 
in  my  life  was  on  account  of  a  lumberman's 
wife.  It  was  a  year  or  so  before  the  war, 
when  some  of  the  first  big  lumber  camps 
were  being  established  in  northern  Mich- 
igan. I  went  up  to  a  little  town  called 
Pagowic  to  look  over  the  country  and  visit  a 
friend  of  mine,  Col.  Clayton  Walters,  who 
had  charge  of  a  big  timber  district  for  some 
New  York  capitalists.  He  had  built  a 
pleasant  cabin  on  the  main  street  of  the  vil- 
lage, or  the  camp,  rather,  and  I  put  up  with 
him.  Right  across  the  street  from  our  place 
was  a  little  cabin  occupied  by  a  French- 
Canadian  lumberman  known  as  'Big  Antone. ' 
He  was  considerably  over  six  feet  tall,  raw- 
boned  and  'rangy,'  as  they  say,  and  I 
learned  the  first  day  I  landed  there  that  he 
was  the  bully  of  the  camp.  He  could  cut 
down  more  timber  than  any  other  man  on 
the  job,  and  there  were  all  kinds  of  stories 
as  to  his  great  strength.  -He  had  a  wife,  a 
young  and  rather  pretty  woman,  and  as  he 
was  full  of  bad  whisky  most  of  the  time  he 
led  her  a  dog's  life.  I  used  to  hear  him 


GALLANTRY   OF   THE   HORNES 


43 


abusing  her  and  scolding  her,  and  it  made 
me  indignant.  I  said  to  Col.  Walters  one  day : 
'Colonel,  why  don't  you  compel  Antone  to 
stop  abusing  his  wife?'  He  said  to  me:  'Home, 
there  isn't  a  man  in  the  camp  dares  to  cross 
that  fellow.  He's  too  dangerous.'  'Well,' I 
says,  'if  he  goes  too  far,  /'//  cross  him.' 

"As  luck  would  have  it,  the  very  next 
morning  I  heard  a  scream  across  the  way, 
and  when  I  went  to  the  door  I  saw  An  tone's 
wife  run  out  of  the  house.  He  followed  her 
and  struck  her  across  the  head  with  the  flat 
of  his  hand.  Well,  sir,  all  the  Home  blood 
that  was  in  me  boiled  at  the  sight.  I 
jumped  up  and  said:  'That  settles  it!'  The 
colonel  knew  what  I  meant,  and  he  knew  he 
couldn't  stop  me,  but  he  followed  after  and 
told  me  to  take  a  pistol.  I  told  him  I  didn't 
need  any.  As  I  walked  across  the  street  I 
pulled  out  my  handkerchief  and  wrapped  it 
as  tightly  as  I  could  around  my  right  hand, 
so  as  to  protect  the  knuckles.  I  knew  that 
big  Antone  was  probably  the  best  rough- 
and-tumble  fighter  in  Michigan,  but  I  was 
confident  that  I  had  a  few  tricks  that  he  had 
never  heard  of. 

"I  went  right  up  to  the  door  and  called 
to  him.  He  came  out  and  his  wife  fol- 


44  DOC   HORNE 

lowed.  I  said:  'Antone,  you  must  stop 
striking  this  woman.  If  you  don't,  I'll  give 
you  the  best  licking  you  ever  had  in  your 
life.'  Well,  sir,  for  a  minute  he  was  so  sur- 
prised that  he  couldn't  speak,  'and  then 
he  began  to  curse  me  in  all  the  choice 
French-Canadian  phrases  at  his  command. 
Then  he  up  and  slapped  me.  It  was  only  a 
slap,  but  it  nearly  took  my  head  off.  He  led 
at  me  again,  but  I  dodged  and  backed  away. 
I  knew  I  didn't  dare  to  clinch  with  him.  He 
seemed  to  think  I  was  afraid  of  him  and 
began  to  laugh.  He  dropped  his  hands  and 
I  walked  toward  him  as  if  to  speak  to  him 
again.  When  I  got  within  reach  I  swung 
with  all  my  might  and  caught  him  right  on 
the  point  of  the  jaw.  I  knew  about  the 
knock-out  blow  long  before  it  was  commonly 
used  by  pugilists,  and  I  had  figured  that  my 
chance  to  whip  him  was  to  get  him  off  his 
guard  and  then  catch  him  on  the  jaw. 

"He  staggered  backward,  and  before  he 
could  recover  himself  I  hit  him  again,  and 
he  tumbled  back  and  lay  as  quiet  as  a  mouse. 
His  wife  screamed  and  ran  over  to  pick  him 
up,  and  about  the  same  time  the  colonel 
arrived  with  a  pistol  in  his  hand.  He 
expected  to  find  me  pounded  to  a  pulp. 


GALLANTRY   OF   THE   HORNES     45 

"In  a  few  moments  'Big  Antone'  sat  up 
and  looked  around  him,  just  like  a  man 
awakening  from  a  sleep.  I  went  up  to  him 


AN   EVENING   SESSION. 


and  said:  'You  remember  what  I  told  you. 
Don't  strike  this  woman  again.'  Then  I 
went  away  with  the  colonel.  'Big  Antone' 


46  DOC'    HORNE 

was  so  humiliated  at  being  whipped  by  a 
man  of  my  size  that  he  left  camp  that  same 
day  and  went  tip  the  river  to  work.  But  the 
colonel  told  me  afterward  that  it  was  the 
best  thing1  that  ever  happened  to  him.  He 
didn't  go  around  looking  for  rights  after 
that,  and  he  was  never  known  to  strike  his 
wife  again.  Of  course  that  was  an  excep- 
tional case,  and  if  I  hadn't  known  the  trick  of 
the  knock-out  blow  it  might  have  been 
serious  for  me.  But,  serious  or  not,  I 
believe  I  would  have  interfered  after  I  saw 
him  strike  the  woman.  It  isn't  in  the 
nature  of  a  Home  to  sit  by  and  see  such 
things  done." 


CHAPTER   V 

THE    DENTIST    SEES    ONE 

The  lightning  dentist  had  extracted 
twenty-three  teeth  that  morning.  Number 
twenty-four  had  not  appeared.  He  leaned 
against  the  chair  and  thought  of  the  woman 
he  was  to  marry.  It  seemed  that  he  could 
see  her.  She  was  neither  blonde  nor 
brunette,  not  tall  nor  short,  vague  and 
without  specifications,  but  she  was  very 
beautiful. 

The  dentist  glanced  at  the  clock  on  the 
mantel.  The  time  was  12:22.  "I  will  hurry 
out  and  get  some  lunch,"  he  said. 

With  that  he  pulled  off  his  white  jacket 
and  hung  it  on  a  hook  in  the  closet,  jumped 
into  his  street  coat  and  bolted  through  the 
doorway,  shouting: 

"Down!     Hey,  there!     Going  down!" 

The  swift  elevator-car  came  to  a  bumping 
pause  in  its  downward  flight.  He  dived 
through  the  open  door  and  sprawled  on 
other  men  whose  faces  seemed  pale  in  the 
dim  light  of  the  shaft.  A  pull  at  the  lever, 
47 


48  DOC    HORNE 

a  confusing  glimpse  of  parallel  floors  and 
rows  of  glazed  windows,  all  flying  upward, 
and  the  car  was  on  the  ground  floor. 

The  dentist  did  not  see  the  squirming 
multitude  in  the  street  nor  hear  the  clangor 
of  the  car  bells.  He  was  trying  to  decide 
whether  or  not  a  piano  would  be  a  necessity 
at  the  beginning. 

As  he  entered  the  place  wherein  food  is 
for  sale  on  quick  delivery,  he  did  not  observe 
that  he  was  riding  in  a  jam  of  people  and 
propelling  himself  by  means  of  his  elbows. 

The  place  was  crowded.  It  was  a  bril- 
liantly lighted  tunnel. 

Long  counters  extended  from  front  to 
rear.  On  one  side  of  each  counter  was  a 
row  of  stools,  with  a  man  on  every  stool. 
The  men  were  so  close  one  to  another  that 
their  arms  threatened  to  interlock  as  they 
beckoned  and  gesticulated  or  swung  them- 
selves in  desperate  feeding.  Behind  these 
men  stood  other  men,  restless,  watchful, 
waiting  their  chance  to  pounce  upon  stools 
as  soon  as  any  wild  men  at  the  counter 
wrenched  themselves  out  of  the  struggling 
line. 

A  babel  of  voices  was  constantly  mingled 
with  the  shuffling  of  feet,  the  crash  of 


THE    DENTIST   SEES    ONE       49 

colliding-  dishes,  and  the  loud  jingle  of 
cutlery. 

If  a  Niagara  of  cups  and  saucers  and 
knives  and  forks  had  been  falling  into  a  stone 
quarry  the  noise  would  have  been  the  same. 

Behind  each  long  counter  were  waiters 
in  white.  They  hopped  and  cavorted, 
lunged  back  and  forth,  uttered  strange 
cries  into  the  air,  and  propelled  dishes  and 
feeding  implements  along  the  smooth  counter 
after  the  manner  of  shuffleboard  players. 

The  dentist  pushed  down  the  line. 

He  saw  a  man  wearily  lift  himself  away 
from  a  crescent  of  pie -crust. 

Aha!  He  had  captured  the  stool  away  from 
two  other  men.  They  moved  on,  looking  at 
the  food  in  front  of  each  feeder,  to  see  if  he 
would  soon  arise. 

"Where's  my  tea?"  demanded  the  man  at 
the  immediate  right  of  the  dentist. 

"Cream  toast!"  shrieked  the  colored  man, 
who  was  in  an  ecstasy  of  employment. 

"Tea!  tea!"' 

"Yes,  seh." 

"Ham  sandwich  and "  began  the 

dentist. 

"Take  away  yo'  sliced  tomatoes!"  shouted 
some  one  in  his  ear. 


DOC'    HORNE 


"Sliced  tomatoes,"  echoed  a  voice  farther 
away. 

"Cup  o'  tea!"  bawled  the  man  at  the  right. 
"Huckleberry  pie!"  exclaimed  some  one 
at  the  left. 

"Ham  sandwich  and " 

Crash!     A  knife  and  fork 
fell  in  front  of  the  dentist. 

A  glass  of  water 
floating  a  large  piece 
of  ice  reeled  sloppily 
J  on  the   spattered 
counter  and  stopped 
in  front  of  him. 
"Ham    sandwich 

and " 

"How  'bout  co'n 
cakes?"  bellowed 
the  colored  man, 
standing  on  tiptoe 
and  threatening 
some  one  with  a 
fork. 

"Take  'em away!" 
"Hurry  up  that 
tea!" 

'  'Nuther  piece  o'  butter!" 
;What  kind  o'  pie?" 


HE   ADMIRED   ALL   BLONDES. 


THE    DENTIST  SEES   ONE       51 

"Where's  my  check?" 
"Ham  sandwich  and " 


Crash  —  boom  —  bang — thump — explosion 
— stampede — panic ! 

"Ham  sandwich!"  screeched  the  waiter, 
bobbing  up  from  nowhere  and  dropping  a 
plate  near  the  dentist. 

"  'N'  a  cup  o'  coffee." 

"How  about  that  tea?" 

"Is  that  pie  comin'?" 

"Yes,  seh."     One  answer  for  all  three. 

The  waiter  dove  under  the  counter.  He 
ran  and  counter-ran. 

He  juggled  spoons  and  saucers.  He 
chuckled  with  delight  when  another  waiter, 
sprinting  along  the  narrow  passageway, 
bumped  into  him. 

He  had  two  cups  in  the  left  hand  and  one 
cup  in  the  right  hand  as  he  danced  around  a 
cluster  of  nickel-plated  boilers  and  pulled  at 
sundry  faucets. 

The  delirium  grew  on  him.  He  passed 
out  pasteboard  checks  with  one  hand  and  cut 
a  pie  with  the  other. 

The  dentist  shared  in  the  exultation.  He 
clutched  the  ham  sandwich  and  tore  away 
the  greater  part  of  it  at  the  first  bite. 

His  neighbor  ordered  a  second  piece  of 


52  DOC'    HORNE 

huckleberry  pie.  The  other  neighbor  gulped 
the  tea  and,  in  a  choking  voice,  called  for 
his  check. 

As  the  tea  neighbor  slid  away  another 
man  bolted  in  and  collided  with  the  dentist, 
who  came  very  near  spilling  his  coffee. 

"Pork  'n'  beans,  glassmilk, "  said  the  new- 
comer, rapping  on  the  counter. 

The  dentist  shuddered  slightly  and  then 
returned  to  his  coffee. 

"In  a  hurry,  too,"  said  the  new-comer. 

"What  kind  of  sweet  cakes " 

"Is  that  blackberry  pie  under  there?" 

"Where's  the  mustard?" 

"I  want  another " 

"Hurry  up  with  that " 

"It's  a  kind  of  a  cream  cake  with  jelly 
on " 

"Take  away  your  wheats!"     (Loudly.} 

"  I  Ve  got  you ! ' '     (More  loudly. ) 

"Glass  o'  water." 

"Rolls  and  milk." 

"Can  you  give  me " 

Biff —  bang  —  platters —  spoons — glasses — 
sugar-bowls — salt-cellars ! 

The  dentist  heard  nothing.  He  was 
furnishing  the  front  room. 

He   joined    the   long,    jostling    line    that 


THE    DENTIST   SEES    ONE       53 

moved  in  irregular  order  past  the  cashier's 
desk.  As  he  handed  out  the  buttery  bit  of 
pasteboard  and  laid  a  silver  dollar  on  top  of 
it,  he  became  aware  that  there  was  a  new 
cashier  behind  the  marble.  She  made 
change  hesitatingly — but  such  a  vision! 
The  uplift  of  golden  hair,  the  chaste  pallor 
of  her  complexion,  the  whiteness  of  her 
teeth,  the  clinging  fit  of  the  cloth  gown — all 
these  he  saw  without  enumerating  them. 

She  was  a  blonde.  He  admired  all 
blondes. 

It  occurred  to  him  that  she  would  do.  All 
that  afternoon  he  extracted  teeth,  but  his 
heart  was  not  in  the  work. 


CHAPTER  VI 

A  PEST  APPEARS  AT  THE  ALFALFA 

The  dentist  burned  to  tell  Doc'  of  his 
discovery.  As  for  the  campaign  of  con- 
quest, it  unfolded  itself  as  an  easy  pathway 
before  him.  He  would  be  introduced  by 
the  manager  of  the  lunch-room;  he  would 
talk  to  her  three  times  before  asking  per- 
mission to  call;  he  would  call  twice  before 
suggesting  the  theater;  his  watchword 
must  be  "Gentility." 

Doc'  was  not  at  the  usual  restaurant, 
but  the  dentist  found  him  later  on.  He 
and  the  race-track  man  were  in  the  office  of 
the  hotel.  The  race-track  man  was  finding 
fault  with  the  manner  in  which  Mr.  Ike 
Francis  managed  the  Alfalfa.  The  dentist 
sat  with  them  and  waited  for  an  opportunity 
to  take  Doc'  away. 

"I  never  had  anything  to  do  with  a  hotel 
in  my  life,"   said  the  race-track  man,   "but 
I  could  take  hold  of  this  place  and  improve 
it;   I  can  promise  you  that." 
54 


A   PEST   APPEARS  55 

"No  doubt  you  could,"  said  Doc'.  "At 
the  same  time  I  am  inclined  to  take  a 
charitable  view  of  the  situation  here.  Mr. 
Francis  has  a  great  deal  to  contend  with.  I 
can  sympathize  with  him  because  I  kept  a 
hotel  for  two  weeks  once — not  from  choice, 
but  from  necessity.  That  was  enough  for 
me,  gentlemen.  I  am  afraid  that  I  am  too 
independent  and  proud-spirited  to  succeed  as 
a  host.  If  I  don't  like  a  man  I  can't  attempt 
to  be  friendly  with  him  even  to  further  my 
financial  interests." 

"Where  did  you  keep  a  hotel,  Doc'?"  asked 
the  dentist. 

"Didn't  I  ever  tell  you  about  it?  It  was 
when  I  was  in  Leadville  during  the  first 
boom.  Three  of  us  had  pooled  our  interests 
and  were  buying  mines.  A  man  named 
Jackson  had  a  mine  that  we  were  anxious  to 
get.  We  made  him  an  offer,  and  he  said 
he'd  sell  if  we'd  buy  his  hotel  too.  He 
wanted  to  raise  all  the  money  he  could  to 
start  a  concert  hall.  We  didn't  want  the 
hotel,  but  we  knew  we  could  sell  it  again, 
because  it  was  making  money,  so  we  closed 
the  deal.  At  the  request  of  my  partners  I 
took  charge  of  the  hotel  and  ran  it  until  we 
could  find  a  customer.  I  had  no  difficulty  in 


56  DOC    HORNE 

handling  the  work,  but  I  didn't  like  it.  I 
didn't  like  to  be  annoyed  by  petty  details. 
If  I  am  going  to  manage  anything  I  want  to 
have  subordinates  who  will  take  the  details 
off  my  hands.  However,  I  reorganized  the 
working  force  and  in  two  weeks'  time  I  made 
that  the  best  hotel  in  Leadville.  We  had 
mostly  miners  and  prospectors  at  the  hotel, 
and  although  they  were  good  fellows  and 
didn't  mean  any  harm,  they  were  too 
boisterous  at  times.  They  used  to  fire  their 
revolvers  just  to  frighten  the  women  who 
worked  in  the  dining-room.  Why,  one  night 
there  must  have  been  twenty  shooting  at  the 
same  time.  I  requested  them  to  stop  it,  but 
they  didn't  seem  to  pay  any  attention,  so 
one  evening,  just  as  they  all  tramped  in  to 
supper,  I  followed  them  in  and  sat  at  the 
head  of  the  long  table,  next  to  the  door.  I 
pulled  my  forty-two  out  of  the  belt  and  laid 
it  on  the  table.  Then  I  said:  4Boys,  I  don't 
believe  we'd  better  have  any  more  shooting 
in  the  dining-room.  It  annoys  the  women 
and  makes  too  much  smoke.  Let's  do  our 
shooting  on  the  outside.'  That's  all  I  said, 
but  I  guess  they  knew  what  it  meant. 
There  wasn't  any  more  shooting  in  the 
dining-room." 


A   PEST   APPEARS  57 

"So  you  made  good  with  the  gun-play,  did 
you?" 

The  three  were  startled  and  turned  to  look 
at  the  speaker.  They  saw  a  freckled  young 
man  with  large  ears,  nose  somewhat  awry, 
hat  set  carelessly  on  a  crop  of  rusty  hair. 
His  garments  were  a  tight  fit,  and  bore  a 
uniform  pattern  of  up-and-down  stripes. 
This  freckled  person  laid  his  hand  on 
Doc's  shoulder  (which  no  member  of  the 
chosen  colony  had  ever  dared  to  do),  and 
said:  "I'll  bet  you've  been  a  purty  good 
scrapper  in  your  time." 

Doc'  looked  up  at  him,  literally  speak- 
ing, and  down  at  him,  figuratively  speaking, 
and  in  that  godlike  frown  of  rebuke  the 
freckled  boy  discerned  a  friendly  invitation 
to  go  ahead  and  say  something  more. 

"I've  been  mixed  up  once  or  twice 
myself,"  he  said. 

Without  further  introduction  the  freckled 
boy  reached  for  a  chair,  seated  himself  and 
began  a  tale  of  dolor. 

"Do  you  know  Danny  Oswald — St.  Louis 
boy?" 

The  three  shook  their  heads  solemnly. 

"Well,  he's  all  right.  Say,  you  meet  that 
boy  and  anything  he's  got  is  your'n,  under- 


DOC    HORNE 


stand?  Many's  the  time  I've  went  to  him — 
'Well,  Danny,  how  about  it,  are  you  strong 
to-day?'  'How  much?' — 
that's  all,  understand? — 
'How  much?'  Good  up  to 
the  limit.  He  knowed,  too, 
that  any  time  I  had 
anything  in  my  cloze  he 
could  come  and  get  it. 
That's  me,  you  know. 
If  a  friend's  right,  he 
can  have  anything. 
That's  me." 

He  tapped  Doc' 
Home  on  the  knee  and 
squinted  at  him. 

"  That  '  s      proper," 
THE  BOY.  Said  Doc  ',   because    he 

couldn't  think  of  anything  else  to  say. 

"Well,  I  was  out  with  Dan  one  night,  an' 
that  was  right  in  this  town,  too — State 
Street.  We  went  into  a  place  and  we'd  had 
two  glasses  of  beer — mebbe  it  was  three.  I 
know  I  bought  and  then  Danny  come  back 
at  me,  and  it  seems  to  me  I  had  'em  piled 
up  again — mebbe  not. ' ' 

The  dentist  fidgeted  in  his  chair  and 
looked  at  the  clock. 


A    PEST   APPEARS  59 

"Anyway,  after  we'd  had  'em,  I  noticed  a 
guy  standin'  at  the  bar  kind  o' — well,  s'pose 
the  bar  .run  from  me  over  to  the  steam 
heater,  I'd  be  standin'  where  that  chair  is 
and  this  fellow  where  you're  settin'  there" 
(indicating  the  dentist).  "Let's  see — yes, 
that  was  about  the  way  of  it.  He  was  a 
husky  guy,  too — broad  shoulders,  big  mits, 
understand? — big  fellow." 

Doc'  Home  blinked  at  the  freckled  boy 
and  rubbed  his  nose  with  violence. 

"Well,  this  fellow  was  standin'  here  and 
me  over  there,  when  I  hear  him  say:  'I 
wonder  where  his  cheap  nobs  got  the  hat' — 
meanin'  me.  I  had  on  a  new  white  Fedora 
hat,  cost  me  three-fifty — elegant  hat.  When 
I  hear  him  say  this,  without  turnin'  around, 
mind  you,  I  says  loud  enough  for  him  to 
hear:  'Don't  let  the  hat  worry  you,  just  keep 
your  face  closed.'  I  was  lookin'  in  the 
mirror  behind  the  bar,  understand? — an'  I 
see  him  start  along  the  bar  toward  me — un- 
derstand, don't  you?  I  see  it  in  the  mirror." 

"Certainly  we    understand,"    said    Doc'. 

"He  come  at  me,"  continued  the  freckled 
boy,  rising,  "just  as  if  I'd  come  right  up 
here  at  you"  (indicating  Doc').  "He's 
comin',  see?  and  I'm  lookin'  at  him  in  the 


60  DOC   HORNE 

mirror.  I  didn't  turn  around  at  all  till  he 
was  in  reach,  and  then  I  turned — like  that — 
and  if  I  didn't  hand  him  a  jolt  that  he'll 
remember !  Mamma ! " 

"Hit  him,  eh?"  asked  Doc',  affecting  a 
mild  interest. 

"Hit  him?  Say — here!  Le*  me  show 
you  now.  He  was  comin*  along  the  bar, 
see?  and  was  just  behind  me  when  I  swung 
around.  It  wasn't  a  punch  exactly;  it  was 
more  of  a  hook — I  kind  o'  pivoted  on  him. 
You  know  what  that  is,  the  Marine  blow,  the 
one  that  put  Dempsey  out.  I  caught  him 
right,  too." 

He  doubled  his  fist  and  placed  it  against 
Doc's  chin  in  order  to  illustrate  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  did  it. 

*'I  got  him  right  there,"  he  continued, 
pushing  with  his  fist  as  he  spoke. 

"If  I'd  caught  him  farther  back,"  said  the 
freckled  boy,  running  his  fingers  along 
Doc's  jawbone,  "I  might  *a  broke  my 
knuckles  and  not  brought  him  down  neither. 
I  got  him  right,  though.  He  didn't  know 
whether  he  was  in  Chicago  or  East 
Skowhegan." 

With  that  he  went  to  his  chair,  flushed  and 
happy. 


A   PEST  APPEARS  61 

""Gentlemen,  I  must  bid  you  good-night," 
said  Doc\  as  he  arose.  "I  dislike  to 
tear  myself  away  from  these  jovial  reminis- 
cences, but  I  have  some  writing  to  do  in  my 
room," 

He  looked  at  the  freckled  boy  and  gave  a 
barely  perceptible  shake  of  the  head  and 
then  walked  over  to  get  his  key.  The 
lightning  dentist  followed  and  spoke  to  him. 
"Doc%  I  saw  a  fine  girl  to-day/' 


"Well,  never  pat  off  tin  to-morrow  what 
should  have  been  done  ten  years  ago.** 

""You  simply  saw  her  or  you  met  her, 
which?" 

"Well,  I  saw  her  and  I  can  meet  her  if  I 
want  to," 

"Attractive?" 

"My  God!" 

"H'm,** 

The  dentist  told  of  her  occupation  and 
suggested  that  no  language  could  aptly 
describe  her  personal  charms. 

"Where  is  the  place?"  asked  Doc*. 

"The  Hyperion  Quick  Lunch,  just  two 
doors  from  our  bunding.** 

"Wen,  don't  be  in  too  much  haste.** 

Next  day  Doc*  called  at  the  Hyperion 


62  DOC'    HORNE 

Quick  Lunch,  and  when  evening  came  he 
had  a  piece  of  news  for  the  dentist. 

"Abandon  all  hope,"  he  whispered  to  him 
as  they  sat  with  the  other  members  of  the 
colony  who  were  assisting  the  police  to 
unravel  the  latest  "mystery." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  the  dentist, 
quick  to  take  alarm. 

"She  is  the  wife  of  the  manager." 


VII 

DOC*    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE    THE    HOTEL 

It  becomes  necessary  to  report  three 
calamities  affecting  members  of  the  Alfalfa 
colony. 

First  was  the  discovery  that  the  chosen 
wife  of  the  dentist  was  already  married  to 
the  manager  of  the  Hyperion  Quick  Lunch. 
Second  was  the  freckled  boy,  who  persisted 
in  joining  the  group  on  no  provocation,  and 
talking  of  his  prowess  and  his  ability  to 
fascinate  women.  The  third  was  a  clash 
between  Doc'  and  the  lush — a  vulgar 
exhibition  of  what  Doc'  afterward  called 
the  "ruder  passions  belonging  to  a  primitive 
state  of  society." 

It  may  be  said  to  the  credit  of  the  light- 
ning dentist  that  he  showed  no  inclination  to 
quarrel  with  Fate  when  he  learned-  that  the 
beautiful  cashier  at  the  ttyperion  was 
already  married. 

"Fortunately  the  thing  hadn't  gone  very 
far,"  he  remarked  to  Doc'. 
63 


64 


DOC'    HORNE 


"And   the   woman,    although   pleasing-  to 
the  eye,  was    of   a    cold 
and    unsympathetic     na- 
ture,"    said    Doc'.        "I 
knew   that    the   moment 
I    looked   at    her.      You 
are  not  discouraged    by 
this  preliminary  experi- 
ence?" 

1  'Not  at  all." 

To    prove  which  he 
soon    found    one  who 
seemed  desirable  and 
who   was     not     mar- 
ried,   as  will  be  re- 
lated hereafter. 

The  freckled  boy 
threatened  to  be  a  permanent  affliction,  and 
yet  this  boy,  like  every  other  organic  being, 
had  certain  uses  which  were  discovered  in 
due  time. 

The  distressing  encounter  between  Doc' 
and  the  lush  might  be  passed  over  in 
silence  were  it  not  for  the  fact  that  it  helped 
to  make  the  subsequent  reconciliation  more 
warming  to  all  concerned. 

The  trouble  came  in  the  following 
manner : 


THE    DAILY   ROUTINE. 


DOC    DECIDES   TO    LEAVE      65 

One  evening-  the  Insh  had  been  empha- 
sizing the  daily  routine,  and  so  his  stare  was 
glassy  as  he  dropped  into  a  chair  and  smiled 
at  his  companions.  There  had  been  some 
talk  about  dancing,  and  Doc'  had  ven- 
tured to  say  that  although  he  had  not 
danced  a  great  deal  in  recent  years,  he  had 
no  doubt  that  he  could  go  out  on  the  floor 
and  waltz  until  two  o'clock  in  the  morning. 

"By  y'rself,  Doc'?"  asked  the  lush. 

"I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  waltzing  by 
myself,"  said  Doc',  somewhat  stiffly. 
"When  I  used  to  go  about  a  great  deal  in 
Philadelphia  society  I  was  counted  one  of 
the  best  waltzers  in  the  city." 

"Phil'delphi'!  Doc',  y're  ringin'  in  a  new 
one  on  us.  When's  you  in  Phil'delphi'?" 

"I  was  in  Philadelphia  the  latter  part  of 
the  '6o's, "  said  Doc',  moving  uneasily  in 
his  chair.  "I  don't  know  that  it  concerns 
you,  but  some  of  the  best  people  in  Phila- 
delphia are  my  friends." 

**D'  they  know  it?"  asked  the  lush. 

Doc'  made  no  reply  for  several  moments, 
but  it  could  be  seen  by  the  nervous  man- 
ner in  which  he  handled  his  cigar  that 
he  had  been  deeply  offended.  Finally 
he  turned  to  the  lush  and  said:  "Sir,  I 


66  DOC'    HORNE 

can  overlook  the  insinuation  contained  in 
your  remark.  You  have  been  drinking." 

"I  nev'  drink,"  replied  the  lush. 
41  What  I  want  to  know  is,  do  these  Phil'del- 
phi'  people  know  they're  friends  yours?" 

"I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  answering  such 
foolish  questions." 

''Where  is  Phil'delphi',  Doc'?" 

Doc'  drew  at  his  cigar  until  the  live  end 
was  glowing  red. 

"On  th'  dead,  Doc',  did  y'  ever  see  Phil'- 
delphi'?"  and  the  lush  chuckled. 

Doc*  was  striving  to  preserve  a  dignified 
silence.  The  race-track  man  and  the  dentist 
kept  back  the  lurking  smiles. 

"Wha'  railroad  is  it  on?"    asked  the  lush. 

"Sir-r-r!"  said  Doc',  suddenly  turning, 
"do  you  realize  that  these  remarks  are 
insulting?  I  can  make  certain  allowances 
for  a  man  in  your  condition,  but  I  object, 
sir,  to  having  you  or  any  one  else  call  into 
question  any  statements  I  may  make  to  these 
gentlemen  here." 

"Get  ep, "  said  the  lush,  from  whose 
flushed  face  the  amiable  smile  had  never 
departed. 

"And  I  want  it  understood,"  added 
Doc'. 


DOC'    DECIDES   TO    LEAVE      67 

The  drinks  had  been  badly  mixed,  and  the 
lush  was  reckless. 

4 'Don't  mean  me,  do  you,  Doc'?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  I  mean  you." 

4 'What 'dido?" 

"You  appeared  to  doubt  certain  state- 
ments that  I  made  to  these  gentlemen  here. " 

"When's  that?" 

"Just  a  few  moments  ago." 

"About  Phil'delphi1?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Tha's  all  right.  I  s'pose  y've  been 
there. ' ' 

"Suppose?  Didn't  you  hear  me  say  that 
I  had  been  there?" 

"Y'  got  friends  there,  too?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I  have  got  friends  there." 

"Well,  I  jus'  wondered  if  they  know  'bout 
it." 

"Exactly  so,  and  I  don't  want  you  to  say 
anything  of  the  kind  again." 

"Y'aint  mad,  are  you,  Doc'?" 

"Never  you.  mind  whether  I'm  mad  or 
not.  I've  told  you  several  times  that  I  am 
of  a  sensitive  nature,  and  when  any  man 
deliberately  attempts  to  belittle  my  state- 
ments he  will  hear  from  me.  Yes,  sir, ' '  and  he 
glared  at  the  race-track  man  and  the  dentist. 


68  DOC'    HORNE 

"Y*  wouldn't  lick  me,  would  you,  Doc'?" 
asked  the  lush,  with  a  labored  wink  at  the 
dentist. 

"I  make  no  threats,"  replied  Doc', 
rummaging-  in  his  pockets  for  a  match  with 
which  to  relight  his  cigar. 

The  lush  looked  at  Doc'  unsteadily  and 
his  lips  moved  in  an  effort  to  reopen  the 
discussion.  He  turned  to  the  race-track 
man  and  the  dentist  for  encouragement,  but 
they  were  grave  and  noncommittal. 

The  lush  brightened  up  all  at  once. 
"Oh,  Doc',"  said  he,  "wha'  state's  Phil'del- 
phi'  in?" 

"Silence!"  An4  the  voice  of  the  infuri- 
ated man  rose  to  a  shriek. 

The  lush  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  be- 
gan to  cackle  at  his  joke. 

In  another  instant  Doc'  had  arisen  and 
made  a  right-hand  pass  at  the  lush,  missing 
him  only  about  two  feet. 

The  race-track  man  jumped  in  front  of 
Doc'  and  tried  to  calm  him. 

The  lush  stood  up  and  began  a  very 
deliberate  effort  to  remove  his  coat,  but  the 
dentist  seized  him  by  the  shoulders  and 
pushed  him  through  the  street  doorway  and 
into  the  hotel  corridor. 


DOC'    DECIDES   TO    LEAVE      69 

"Le'm  come  on,"  shouted  the  lush, 
valiantly,  as  he  was  pushed  along;  "I'm 
purt'  good  scrapper  m'self. " 

"Stand  aside,  sir,  stand  aside,"  shouted 
Doc',  as  he  attempted  to  dodge  past  the 
race-track  man.  "I  have  a  right  to  demand 
satisfaction  of  that  scoundrel." 

"Sit  down,"  urged  the  race-track  man. 
"Don't  pay  any  attention  to  him.  He's 
drunk." 

"That  may  be,  sir;  but  he  must  not 
insult  a  Home,  drunk  or  sober." 

"Well,  he's  gone  now.  Wait  till  he 
gets  sober  and  then  talk  to  him." 

The  dentist,  having  conducted  the  lush 
through  a  side  door  to  the  bar-room, 
returned  to  the  front  door  and  assisted 
in  pacifying  Doc'.  As  soon  as  Doc' 
became  convinced  that  it  was  his  duty,  as  a 
Home,  to  ignore  the  cheap  insinuations  of  a 
tipsy  man,  he  recovered  his  spirits  and  told 
how  he  had  been  similarly  insulted  at  a  club 
in  San  Francisco  in  1873.  He  knocked  the 
man  through  a  plate-glass  mirror,  and  when 
he  offered  to  pay  for  the  glass  the  club 
would  not  permit  him  to  do  so,  claiming 
that  he  had  done  what  any  gentleman 
should  have  done  under  the  circumstances. 


;o  DOC'    HORNE 

Just  as  Doc'  was  concluding  this  story 
the  lush,  who  had  been  refreshed  by  sev- 
eral new  drinks,  came  slowly  toward  the 
front  door  and  halted  about  twenty  feet 
away  from  Doc'  and  his  audience. 

"Doc',  y're  big  bluff,"  said  he,  very 
thickly,  as  he  teetered  back  and  forth.  "Y're 
fall  canal  water — nev'  saw  Phil'delph'." 

"Don't  pay  any  attention  to  him,"  said 
the  race-track  man  to  Doc'.  "He  doesn't 
know  what  he's  saying." 

So  Doc'  preserved  a  grim  silence. 

The  lush,  having  vindicated  himself, 
executed  a  serpentine  course  back  to  the 
office  and  was  then  taken  to  his  room  in  the 
custody  of  a  bell-boy. 

"That  is  the  first  time  I  have  lost  my 
temper  since  1880, "  said  Doc'. 

Next  day  the  lush  was  apprised  of  what 
he  had  done,  so  he  went  to  Doc'  and  said: 
"I — I  want  to  apologize  for  what  happened 
last  night." 

"Your  apology  is  accepted,"  replied 
Doc',  speaking  with  much  reserve.  It  was 
evident  that  he  had  not  forgiven  the 
lush. 

Two  days  after  the  attempted  assault,  the 
race-track  man  said  to  the  dentist: 


DOC    DECIDES   TO   LEAVE      71 

"Were  you  out  in  front  the  other  evening 
when  Doc'  told  about  being  elected  re- 
corder of  Tracy  County,  Ohio,  in  1858?" 

"I  heard  him  speak  of  it,  but  I  wouldn't 
be  sure  of  names  or  dates." 

"Well,  I  remember  the  name,  and  I 
remember  the  date,  and  I  think  I've  got 
him  nailed.  This  morning  I  was  over  in 
the  public  library  to  look  up  a  point  and 
decide  a  bet  for  a  friend  of  mine,  and  while 
I  was  looking  through  the  catalogue  I  saw  a 
book,  'Complete  History  and  Official  Reg- 
ister of  Ohio' ;  understand?  I  got  it  out, 
and  sure  enough  I  found  in  the  back  part  a 
list  of  the  counties  and  the  officers  ever  since 
the  organization.  I  turned  to  Tracy  County, 
and  I  found  that  a  man  named  Thomas 
Pettit  was  recorder  from  1858  to  1862  I 
thought  I  might  have  been  mistaken  as  to 
the  year,  but  I  couldn't  find  Doc's  name 
anywhere  in  the  book.  He  never  held  an 
office  in  that  county  at  all." 

"Oh,  well,  what  if  he  didn't?  You're  not 
going  to  say  anything  to  him  about  it,  are 
you?  I  don't  believe  I  would.  You  know 
Doc'  is  as  sensitive  as  a  woman,  and — 

"All  I'm  going  to  do  is  ask  him  which  is 
right,  him  or  the  book  over  in  the  library." 


DOC'    HORNE 


"I  don't  think  you  ought  to  do  it.  I  don't 
see  that  it  can  do  any  good. " 

"Oh,  well,  Doc'  '11  say  that  the  book's 
wrong." 

That  evening  the  race-track  man  found 
his  opportunity. 

"By  the  way,  Doc',  didn't  you  tell  us  the 
other  evening  that  you  was  once  elected 
recorder  of  Tracy  County,  Ohio?" 

"Yes,  I  believe  I  did  tell  you  about  it." 
"Let's  see,  what  year  was  that?" 
"I  told  you  the  year,  didn't  I?" 
"It  was  1858,  wasn't  it?" 

"Yes,  1858  —  two 
years  before  Abe  Lin- 
coln ran." 

"The  reason  I  asked 
you  was  that  I  thought 
you  might  have  been 
mistaken  as  to  the  year 
or  the  county. ' ' 

"A     man     couldn't 
very   well    forget   the 
name    of    a    county," 
"TRACY  couNTY-i858."  suggested  the  lush,  who 
was  in  a  protracted  lapse  of  sobriety. 
"Certainly  not,"  said  Doc'. 
"There's  a  mistake  somewhere,"  said  the 


DOC'    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE      73 

race-track  man.  "I  happened  to  be  looking 
through  a  history  of  Ohio  the  other  day,  and 
it  gave  the  name  of  Thomas  Pettit  as  the 
man  who  was  elected  recorder  in  Tracy 
County  in  1858.  Of  course  the  history  may 
be  wrong,  but  that's  what  it  said.  I  wanted 
to  be  sure,  so  I  copied  it  down,  and  I've 
got  it  here."  He  produced  from  his  vest 
pocket  a  folded  piece  of  paper,  and  opening 
it,  read:  "Tracy  County,  Ohio;  recorder 
from  1858  to  1862,  Thomas  Pettit." 

Doc'  sat  staring  at  the  speaker,  and 
although  he  made  an  effort  to  remain  calm, 
his  outstretched  hand  was  trembling  as  he 
said:  "Let  me  see  that  paper." 

The  race-track  man  gave  the  paper  to 
him.  Doc'  laid  it  in  his  lap,  and  with 
deliberation  brought  out  his  spectacle-case 
and  opened  it.  He  carefully  adjusted  his 
spectacles,  and  then,  turning  sidewise  so  as 
to  get  the  light  that  came  out  through  the 
doorway,  read  what  was  on  the  paper,  his 
lips  moving  as  he  did  so. 

"Yes;  this  is  all  right.  I  thought  maybe 
it  said  that  Tom  Pettit  had  been  chosen  at 
the  regular  election.  The  history's  got  it 
right.  It  just  says  there,  you'll  see,  that  he 
was  recorder  from  1858  to  1862." 


74 


DOC'    HORNE 


"I  know,  but  I  thought  that  you  became 
recorder  in  1858." 

"I  became  nothing  of  the  kind,  and  I 
didn't  say  so.  I  did  say  to  you  gentlemen, 
without  suspecting  that  the  statement 
needed  verification,  that  I  was  elected  re- 
corder in  1858.  I  did  not  say  that  I  ever 
was  recorder.  I  had  the  fan  of  the  cam- 
paign, overcame  the  regular  majority, 
cleaned  the  other  fellow  out,  and  what  more 
did  I  want?  Three  days  after  I  was  elected 
I  received  an  offer  to  go  to  Cincinnati  and 
act  as  business  manager  for  a  company  that 
had  just  been  organized  to  run  a  line  of 
packets  on  the  Ohio  River.  As  I  hadn't 
qualified  for  the  recordership  I  accepted  the 
Cincinnati  position,  and  the  county  com- 
missioners had  to  accept  my  resignation  and 
elect  some  one  to  take  my  place.  One  of  the 
commissioners  wanted  to  elect  Willoughby, 
who  had  run  against  me,  but  the  other  two 
were  friendly  to  me.  The  feeling  still  ran 
high,  so  they  sided  with  me,  and  elected 
Tom  Pettit,  who  was  a  cousin  of  mine." 

Doc'  paused  and  then  asked:  "How 
does  it  happen  that  you  went  and  looked 
this  up?" 

"I  didn't  look  it  up,"  the  race-track  man 


DOC'    DECIDES    TO    LEAVE      75 

hastened  to  explain.  "I  just  ran  across  it 
accidentally." 

4 'Indeed!" 

Thereupon  Doc'  arose  and  walked  away 
without  the  courtly  "Good-night,  gentle- 
men," which  usually  fell  on  the  group  with 
all  the  flavor  of  a  benediction. 

On  the  following  morning  Doc'  notified 
Mr.  Ike  Francis,  the  proprietor,  that  he 
intended  to  leave  the  Alfalfa  Hotel  as  soon 
as  he  could  find  another  room.  He  gave  no 
reasons. 


CHAPTER   VIII 


TROLLEY    CARS    IN    ST.    LOUIS 

June  had  come,  month  of  roses  and  mar- 
riages. 

Every  morning  the  dentist    read  in    his 
newspaper  the  long  list  of  marriage  licenses 
and  the  full  column  of  wedding  stories.     It 
was  maddening  to  him,  and 
the  injustice  of  the  whole 
situation    smote    him.      He 
wondered  if  he  was  to  be  a 
social  outcast,  bearing 
some  defect   which 
made    him    odious    to 
women.     If   not,   why 
should  he,  with  money 
and  a  wardrobe,  have 
no  applications,  being 
Openly  ready  to  marry 
any  one  who  pleased  him  —  and  Doc'  Home? 
From    fretting    at    his    failure  to  attract 
women  he  would  turn  to  reviling  himself  as 
one  lacking  courage  and  enterprise.    He  had 
opportunities.  Why  did  he  not  improve  them? 
76 


"  WAS 


TROLLEY    CARS   IN   ST.  LOUIS        77 

One  day  in  the  office  he  was  presented  to 
Miss  Milbury,  cousin  of  one  of  the  operatives 
in  the  Neapolitan  Dental  Parlors.  They 
talked  for  several  minutes  and  she  suggested 
to  him  that  he  would  be  welcome  if  he  chose  to 
come  to  the  flat  some  evening  with  her  cousin. 

Here  was  the  chance,  and  he  did  not 
allow  it  to  slip  by.  He  did  not  respond  with 
the  usual  and  quite  indefinite  "Thank  you," 
or  "It's  very  kind  of  you,"  but  said, 
promptly:  "Yes,  indeed,  I  would  be  glad  to 
call,  if  you  will  suggest  an  evening,"  and 
the  young  woman,  rather  startled  at  his 
eagerness,  said,  "Oh — ah — Tuesday  even- 
ing," and  did  not  urge  him  further.  But 
he  required  no  urging. 

He  notified  Doc'  Home  that  he  was 
about  to  call  on  one  who  promised  well. 
Doc'  showed  a  courteous  interest,  but 
volunteered  no  suggestions. 

"What's  the  matter,  Doc'?"  asked  the 
dentist.  "Ain't  you  feeling  well?" 

"You  are  perhaps  the  one  person  to  whom 
I  can  speak  freely,"  said  Doc'.  "I  am  not 
entirely  happy  in  my  associations  here  at  the 
Alfalfa.  This  freckled  boy  is  not  an 
example  of  good  breeding,  to  say  the  least, 
and  his  familiarities  are  beginning  to  wear 


78  DOC'    HORNE 

on  me.  Our  friend  who  drinks  too  much 
offered  me  a  gratuitous  insult  the  other  even- 
ing, and  that — well,  that  speculative  person 
who  bets  on  the  races  has  contrived  to  make 
himself  disagreeable.  I  have  been  in  thirty 
states  of  the  Union  and  mixed  with  all 
classes,  but  whenever  it  is  possible  I  prefer 
to  be  with  gentlemen." 

"They  think  the  world  of  you,  Doc'/'  said 
the  dentist  "I  know  the  lush  is  sorry  for 
what  he  did,  and  besides,  you  know,  he 
apologized." 

The  dentist  said  other  reassuring  things, 
with  the  result  that  when  Doc'  walked 
back  to  the  hotel  after  his  restaurant  din- 
ner, and  the  freckled  boy  was  not  to  be  seen, 
he  took  his  place  with  the  others. 

The  lush  saluted  him  humbly  and 
sadly.  For  several  days  the  lush  had 
been  complaining  of  stomach  trouble.  After 
an  evening  spent  at  the  bar,  the  lush 
would  retire  at  midnight,  cheerful  and  in 
excellent  mind  and  body,  according  to  his 
own  admission. 

Next  morning  he  would  be  out  of  sorts. 

There  would  be  dry  fever  parching  his 
eyes  and  his  lips  would  work  uneasily  on 
something  of  an  unpleasant  taste. 


TROLLEY    CARS    IN   ST.  LOUIS        79 

"I  don't  know  what's  the  matter  with  me 
this  morning, "  he  would  say.  "My  stomach 
seems  to  be  out  of  whack.  I  can't  imagine 
what's  the  matter.  I  haven't  been  eating 
any  fruit." 

Then  he  would  recall  the  fact  that  an 
eminent  physician  once  told  him  that  the 
best  thing  in  the  world  for  a  disordered 
stomach  was  whisky  and  soda. 

Sometimes,  if  he  had  reason  to  believe  that 
he  was  suffering  from  indigestion,  he  drank 
whisky  and  pepsin.  He  had  been  known  to 
use  whisky  and  quinine  to  fight  malarial 
symptoms. 

In  spite  of  his  willingness  to  take  any  kind 
of  medicine  that  would  mix  with  whisky 
harmoniously,  his  stomach  continued  to  be 
treacherous  and  troublesome.  This  evening 
he  was  gloomy,  for  he  had  been  neglecting 
the  treatment. 

As  Doc'  put  his  chair  alongside  that  of 
the  dentist  and  looked  down  the  hazy  street, 
which  was  already  settling  into  an  evening 
calm,  a  stranger,  of  harmless  bearing  and  a 
rather  limp  mustache,  dragged  a  chair 
toward  them  and  asked: 

"Gentlemen,  may  I  sit  with  you  and  enjoy 
this  evening  breeze?" 


8o  DOC'    HORNE 

"Certainly,  certainly,  my  dear  sir," 
replied  Doc'.  "Yon  are  a  new-comer  at  the 
hotel?" 

"Yes,  I  am  with  you  temporarily.  My 
wife  and  the  children  have  gone  into  the 
country  for  a  few  weeks,  so  I  closed  up  the 
house  and  came  down  here  to  live." 

The  dentist  turned  and  looked  at  the 
stranger  as  soon  as  "wife"  was  mentioned. 
Here  was  a  man  who  had  entered  that  state 
for  which  the  dentist  was  striving.  Doubt- 
less he  could  give  information. 

"I  should  think  a  married  man  would  find 
it  rather  lonesome  around  this  kind  of  a 
hotel,"  suggested  the  dentist. 

The  married  man  turned  and  looked  at 
him  as  if  startled,  and  then  said  quietly: 
"Oh,  I  don't  mind  it." 

"All  three  of  us  are  bachelors,"  said  the 
dentist. 

"Yes,  poor,  miserable  bachelors,"  added 
Doc',  with  a  smile,  for  he  alone  under- 
stood why  the  dentist  was  interested  in  the 
topic  of  matrimony. 

"I  don't  see  why  you  should  be  miser- 
able," said  the  married  man,  shaking  his 
head.  "You're  just  as  free  as  the  air  here. 
There's  no  one  to  find  fault  with  anything 


TROLLEY    CARS    IN   ST.  LOUIS        81 

you  do.  You  can  come  and  go  when  you 
please,  turn  in  when  you  want  to,  eat  and 
drink  what  you  like — oh,  well,  some  people 
never  know  when  they're  well  off." 

"You'd  get  tired  of  it  soon  enough,  and  be 
more  than  anxious  to  get  back  home,"  said 
the  dentist. 

"Oh,  well,  perhaps — perhaps,"  said  the 
married  man.  "Only,  I  want  to  tell  you 
that  some  people  never  know  when  they're 
well  off."  Then,  as  if  to  vary  the  conversa- 
tion, he  turned  to  Doc'  and  said  to  him: 
"You  are  a  professional  man,  I  believe?" 

"Because  they  call  me  Doc'?" 

"Yes,  I  supposed  you  were  a  doctor." 

"No." 

"And  never  was?" 

"Yes — and  no.  I  never  took  a  degree, 
but  I  did  practice  medicine  for  a  while — a 
little  while.  It  was  during  the  war.  I  was 
in  Cincinnati  at  the  time,  engaged  in  certain 
negotiations  regarding  a  government  con- 
tract. There  was  a  large  camp  of  Union 
soldiers  near  Covington,  and  a  mysterious 
malady  had  broken  out  among  the  men, 
a  number  of  whom  had  died.  The  sickness 
was  a  sort  of  combination  of  cholera  and 
quinsy.  At  least  one  hundred  of  the  soldiers 


82 


DOC'    HORNE 


had  it  when  I  reached  Cincinnati.  As  soon 
as  I  learned  the  facts  in  the  case  I  recog- 
nized the  disease  as  one  that  I  had  suffered 
from  myself,  in  Louisiana.  I  had  made  a 
thorough  study  of  it,  and  by  certain  experi- 
ments had  got  the  remedy  for  it.  Well,  I 
went  to  the  camp  and  announced  my  will- 
ingness to  treat  the  patients.  At  first  the 
surgeons  wouldn't  listen 
to  me,  but  I  had  influential 
friends  in  the  army  who 
brought  them  to  time,  and 
I  had  my  way.  You 
s  see,  this  epidemic  had 
baffled  them,  and  they 
didn't  like  to  admit 
that  any  one  knew 
how  to  handle  it.  Gen- 
tlemen, I  began  treat- 
ing those  men,  and  in 
ten  days  I  had  every 
one  on  his  feet,  feeling 
like  a  fighting  cock. 
Of  course  the  whole  camp  supposed  I  was  a 
physician,  and  so  I. was  called  Doc'  by  the 
officers  and  men  alike.  The  appellation  of 

Doc'  followed  me  to " 

"Say,  what  do  you  think  a  fellow  said  to 


"i  SEEN  'EM. 


TROLLEY    CARS    IN   ST.  LOUIS        83 

me  just  now?"  asked  a  boisterous  voice,  and 
the  four  men  thus  suddenly  disturbed  looked 
up  and  saw  the  freckled  scourge. 

Doc's  story  was  never  finished. 

"A  fellow  was  tryin'  to  tell  me  that  this 
town  had  trolley  cars  before  St.  Louis  did," 
said  the  freckled  boy,  placing  his  hand  on 
Doc'  Home's  knee  and  glaring  at  the 
embarrassed  old  gentleman.  "Now,  what 
do  you  think  o'  the  nerve  o'  some  people?  I 
seen  them  trolley  cars  in  St.  Louis  long 
enough  before  they  was  here.  Ain't  that 
right,  huh?" 

"I  don't  know,"  replied  Doc',  looking' 
steadfastly  toward  the  front  door. 

"Well,  I  know,  you  can  gamble  on  that. 
The  nerve  o'  that  guy!  I  tell  you  I  seen 
'em  in  St.  Louis  before  they  knowed  what  a 
trolley  pole  was  in  this  town.  It's  funny  if 
I  wouldn't  know  it,  too,  bein'  in  both  places. 
You  can  bet  they  had  trolley  cars  in  St. 
Louis  before  they  had  'em  here.  I'd  like  to 
bet  a  thousand  on  it.  I  just  think  that'd  be 
easy  money — that's  what  I  think.  This  fel- 
low might  stand  around  all  day  and  tell  that 
to  people  that  don't  know  no  better,  but  I'm 
tellin'  you  that  I  seen  'em  there.  I'll  call 
anybody  down  on  them  statements." 


84  DOC'    HORNE 

The  four  stared  drearily  at  the  freckled 
boy.  He  seemed  to  interpret  their  silence 
as  a  contradiction  of  what  he  had  been 
saying.  At  least  they  did  not  appear  to  be 
properly  convinced,  or  they  would  have  said 
so. 

"I  seen  theni  trolley  cars  in  St.  Louis 
when  they  didn't  have  'em  in  but  mighty 
few  towns  in  this  country,"  said  he,  im- 
pressively tapping  the  lush  on  the  breast. 
Then  he  laughed  scornfully  and  continued : 
"This  fellow  I  was  talkin'  to  thought  he 
had  some  boy  that'd  never  been  around  any. 
I  know  when  they  begin  to  run  trolley  cais 
in  St.  Louis  and  I  know  when  they  used  the 
first  cable  in  Kansas  City.  Mebbe  I  know  it 
and  mebbe  I  don't.  If  I  don't,  then  some 
guy  can  win  a  little  bundle  o'  money."  He 
put  his  hand  into  his  watch  pocket,  as  if  to 
draw  out  a  roll  of  bills,  and  then  paused  and 
began  a  new  attack  on  the  imaginary  foe 
who  was  persisting  that  Chicago  had  trolley 
cars  before  St.  Louis  had  any. 

"W'y,  there  was  lots  of  towns  had  trolley 
cars  before  this  town  had  'em,"  said  he, 
with  a  contemptuous  glance  at  the  married 
man.  "Yes,  you  bet,  there  was  a  good  and 
plenty  of  towns  had  'em." 


TROLLEY    CARS    IN    ST.  LOUIS       85 

41  Well,  what  of  it?"  asked  Doc'  Home, 
sharply. 

"What  of  it?  W'y,  didn't  this  fellow  out 
here  try  to  tell  me  that  you  had  trolley  cars 
here  before  they  ever  had  'em  in  St.  Louis? 
Say,  if  that  didn't  make  me  sick.  I  called 
him  in  a  minute,  and  I  had  him  cinched, 
too,  becuz  I  seen  'em  down  there." 

Doc'  moaned  and  then  arose  and  started 
away. 

"And  then  he  shut  up,"  added  the 
freckled  boy,  smiling  proudly,  as  he  dropped 
into  the  chair  vacated  by  Doc'. 


CHAPTER  IX 


HOME    LIFE    IN    TWO    EPISODES 

The    married  man's  conversation  fright- 
ened the  dentist 

"Did  you  hear  what  he  said,  Doc'?"  asked 
the  dentist  later  in  the  even- 
ing.      They    were     having 
one  of  their  confiden- 
tial dialogues. 

"Yes,   but  what  of 
it?" 

"Why,  here  we've 
been  at  this  hotel,  com- 
plaining because  we  had 
no  homes,  or  firesides, 
or — or  children  or  any- 
thing, and  along  comes 
this  married  man  with  a 
wife  and  a  home  and  two 
children,  and  so  on,  and  seems  to  be  tickled 
to  death  to  get  to  the  hotel  here  and  live 
with  us.  That's  a  fact.  After  you  left 
he  said  he  only  wished  to  the  Lord  he 
could  settle  right  down  and  stay  with 

86 


LIFE    IN    TWO    EPISODES        87 

us.  And  he  kept  on  saying  that  us  fellows 
here  didn't  know  when  we  were  well  off. 
I'll  tell  you,  Doc',  that  kind  of  talk  is  enough 
to  worry  a  man  who's  getting  ready  to  jump 
into  matrimony  at  the  first  chance." 

''Nonsense,  my  dear  fellow,"  said  Doc', 
tilting  his  head  backward  and  smiling  at  the 
dentist  in  mild  benevolence.  "You  know 
and  I  know  that  there  have  been  unhappy 
marriages.  That  is  no  indication  that  your 
marriage  will  be  a  failure.  Besides,  this 
married  man  may  have  spoken  hastily. 
Before  a  month  has  passed  he  will  be  anx- 
ious to  go  back  to  his  family.  Perhaps  his 
wife  nags  him  sometimes  and  he  is  glad  to 
get  away  from  her  for  a  few  weeks  now  and 
then.  Or  perhaps  he  has  soured  her  life  by 
his  indifference,  and  now  puts  the  blame  on 
her.  Don't  let  his  experience  frighten 
you. ' ' 

Now,  in  order  that  the  married  man  at  the 
Alfalfa  European  Hotel  may  not  be  set  up 
as  a  fair  specimen  of  his  kind,  it  is  well  that 
one  should  know  something  about  his  wife. 
Not  that  she  is  a  fair  specimen  either,  but 
simply  the  kind  of  martyr  who  would 
encourage  a  husband  to  seek  peace  with  the 
shaggy  bachelors  at  the  Alfalfa. 


88  DOC'    HORNE 

FIRST       EPISODE 

(She  is  at  the  breakfast  table  with  Walter, 
aged  eleven,  and  Lulu,  aged  six.  He  comes, 
with  a  morning  paper  in  his  hand.  He  sits 
and  reads. ) 

She — "Children,  say  good-morning  to 
your  papa." 

Walter — ' '  Good-morning,  papa. ' ' 

Lulu — ' '  Good-morning,  papa. ' ' 

He — "Good  morning,  children." 

She — "I  want  you  children  to  always 
speak  to  your  papa  in  the  morning,  whether 
he  notices  you  or  not.1' 

He — "I  see  that  the  President  started  on 
his  trip. ' ' 

Walter — "Where's  he  going,  papa?" 

She — "Sh-h-h!  When  your  papa  comes 
to  the  breakfast  table  he  doesn't  want  to 
talk  to  any  one.  I'll  explain  to  you  what  it 
is  after  breakfast,  Walter. ' ' 

He  (lowering paper] — "What  is  it  he  wants 
to  know?" 

She— "Never  mind,  Walter.  I'll  tell  you 
after  breakfast.  Your  father  isn't  in  a  very 
good  humor  this  morning.  He  was  out  late 
last  night." 


LIFE    IN    TWO    EPISODES        89 

He — "I  wasn't  out  very  late." 

She — "I'd  like  to  know  what  time  it  was 
when  you  came  in." 

He— "Huh?" 

She— "Well,  if  you're  so  intent  on  that 
paper,  I'll  not  disturb  you.  Walter!  Eat 
all  of  your  oatmeal. ' ' 

Walter  —  "I  don't  want  any  more, 
mamma." 

She — "Well,  I  want  you  to  eat  more  oat- 
meal and  less  fruit. " 

He — "I  wouldn't  compel  him  to  eat  oat- 
meal unless  he  wants  it.  " 

She — "Very  well,  Walter,  you  may  eat 
whatever  you  please.  That  seems  to  be 
your  father's  idea  of  dieting  a  child. 
What's  the  matter  with  you,  Lulu?" 

Lulu — "I'm  sleepy." 

She — "Did  you  wake  up  when  your  father 
came  in?" 

Lulu— "No'  m." 

She— "Well,  it's  a  wonder.  He  made 
enough  noise — coming  in  at  all  hours  of  the 
night!" 

He — "I  came  in  once — that  was  all." 

She — "That  was  late  enough,  goodness 
knows." 

He— "Oh,  it  wasn't  so  very  late." 


9o  DOC'    HORNE 

She — "I'd  like  to  know  what  time  it  was. sv 

He — "It  was  about  twelve,  I  guess." 

She — "Indeed?  I  heard  it  strike  twelve 
some  time  before  you  came  in — some  little 
time  before  you  came  in." 

He — "Well,  if  it  struck  twelve  before  I 
came  in  it  must  have  been  after  twelve 
when  I  arrived." 

She — "Indeed,  it  was!" 

He — "All  right,  we've  got  that  settled, 
and  now  you  may  pour  me  a  cup  of  coffee, 
sweetness." 

She — "Please  don't  use  such  language  as 
that  in  the  presence  of  the  children.  I 
judged  it  must  have  been  one  o'clock." 

He — "What  was  one  o'clock?" 

She — "When  you  came  in." 

He — "Are  you  still  talking  about  that?" 

She — "I  can  -very  well  understand  why 
you  don't  want  to  talk  about  it." 

He— "Why?     What  do  you  suspect?" 

She — "Well,  wasn't  it  one  o'clock?" 

He — "I  don't  think  so.  I  came  home  on 
the  cable  car. ' ' 

She— "The  last  cable  car?" 

He— "Well,  I  didn't  wait  to  see  if  any 
more  came  along. ' ' 

She— "Oh,  you  didn't?" 


LIFE    IN   TWO   EPISODES        91 

He — "No,  ma'am/' 

She  — "What  time  does  the  last  cable 
run?" 

He — "I  don't  know;  but  you  can  find  out 
at  the  general  offices. " 

She— "Oh,  I  can,  can  I?" 

He — "Yes,  ma'am." 

She — "Do  your  lodge  meetings  last  until 
midnight?" 

He — "Not  very  often." 

She — "Then  you  were  not  at  the  lodge 
meeting  a//  the  time?" 

He — "I  was  there  all  of  the  time  there 
was  any  meeting  going  on.  I  had  to  leave 
after  the  meeting  adjourned,  because  the 
man  wanted  to  lock  up  the  place." 

She — "Oh,  you  did,  did  you?" 

He — "Yes,  ma'am.  Will  you  have 
another  piece  of  bacon?" 

She— "Where  was  the  meeting  held?" 

He— "Masonic  Temple. " 

She — "And  it  took  you  until  one  o'clock 
to  get  from  the  Masonic  Temple  up  to  the 
house  here?" 

He— "Did  it?" 

She — "How  long  does  it  take  to  come 
home  on  the  cable?" 

He — "What  is  that — a  conundrum?" 


92  DOC'    HORNE 

She — "The  meeting  couldn't  have  lasted 
later  than  eleven  o'clock." 

He — "You're  talking  about  the  lodge 
meeting  now?" 

She — "I  most  certainly  am.  You  must 
have  gone  somewhere  after  the  meeting. ' ' 

He — "I  always  go  somewhere  after  every 
lodge  meeting.  I  have  to. ' ' 

She — "You  don't  come  home — evidently. " 

He — "When,  after  the  lodge  meeting? 
That's  when  I  always  come  home — after  the 
meeting.  You  don't  expect  me  to  come 
home  before  the  meeting,  do  you,  dear?" 

She — "I  must  say  that  I  don't  see  any- 
thing to  laugh  at." 

He— "Don't  you?     Well,  I  enjoy  this." 

She — "I'd  like  to  know  how  you  put  in 
your  time  late  at  night  downtown." 

He— "Well,  I'll  tell  you  what  I  did  last 
night  if  you  promise  not  to  tell  any  one. ' ' 

She — "Yes,  I  dare  say  you  will  tell 
me." 

He — "This  is  confidential.  I  was  out 
robbing  a  house." 

She — "Humph!  I  suppose  you  think 
that's  funny." 

He— "Well,  I  don't  know  what  else  to  tell 
you.  If  I  said  that  I'd  been  out  visiting  dis- 


LIFE    IN    TWO    EPISODES        93 

reputable  saloons  and  drinking  rum,  I  know 
you  wouldn't  believe  that." 

She — "I  don't  know  of  any  place  down- 
town that  could  be  visited,  with  propriety,  at 
midnight." 

He — "Have  you  made  a  pretty  thorough 
study  of  night  resorts,  my  dear?" 

She — "I  dare  say  I  don't  know  as  much 
about  them  as  you  do.  I  think  it's  shame- 
ful for  a  man  who  professes  to  be  a  church 
member." 

He— "You  think  what's   shameful,  pet?" 

She — "It's  not  necessary  to  go  into  details 
in  the  presence  of  the  children." 

He— "Details  of  what?  What  in  the 
world  are  you  talking  about?" 

She — "I  can  not  understand  how  you 
put  in  your  time  at  such  an  hour  of  the 
night." 

He — "You  can't  understand  it?" 

She— "No,  sir,  I  cannot." 

He — "Well,  then,  if  you  don't  know  how 
I  put  in  my  time,  what  is  there  to  suppress? 
Go  ahead  and  tell  the  children  all  about  it. ' ' 

She — "I  don't  think  such  things  ought  to 
be  discussed  before  children,  anyway." 

He — "Yes,  I've  noticed  that  you  feel  that 
way  about  it." 


94  DOC'    HORNE 

She — "You  seem  to  be  rather  sarcastic 
this  morning. ' ' 

He— "Not  at  all." 

(A  pause.} 

She — "You're  not  very  hungry  this  morn- 
ing." 

He — "No;  not  very. " 

She — "You  must  have  had  something  to 
eat  before  you  came  home  last  evening." 

He— "Yes." 

She— "I  thought  as  much.  Why  didn't 
you  say  so  at  first?  Do  you  think  it's  the 
proper  thing  to  go  to  such  places?" 

He — "What  places  do  you  mean?" 

She — "I  mean //cww,  such  as  the  one  you 
visited." 

He — "Oh,  you  know  the  place,  do  you?" 

'She — "I  can  guess,  I  suppose." 

He— "Yes,  ma'am." 

She — "And  if  it's  going  to  have  this  effect 
on  you  I  hope  you  won't  go  very  often. 
You  seem  to  be  very  much  interested  in  your 
paper  this  morning." 

He — "Pardon  me,  dear.  Was  there  any- 
thing you  wanted  to  talk  to  me  about?" 

She— "  CVrtainly  not." 

He — ' '  I  thought  perhaps  you'd  like  to  know 
where  I  went  last  night  after  lodge  meeting. ' ' 


LIFE   IN    TWO    EPISODES        95 

She — "Not  at  all.  I  have  no  curiosity  in 
the  matter  whatever. ' ' 

He— "Oh,  all  right.  I  didn't  know  but 
what  you'd  be  interested  to  find  out  what 

it  was  kept  me  out  so  late.  However " 

(Resumes  his  newspaper.) 

SECOND     EPISODE 

(//  is  dusk.  She  has  put  aside  her  fancy  work 
and  is  looking  at  the  flower-bed  in  the  cen- 
ter of  the  grass  plat.  He  enters,  humming 
a  tune,  and  kisses  her  in  a  dutiful  manner. ) 
She— "Oh!" 
He— "What's  the  matter?  Didn't  you 

expect  it?" 

She—' '  Oh !     I  do  believe ' ' 

He— "Believe  what?" 

She — "Come  here  again." 

He — "What  do  you  want?" 

She — "Come  here"  (pulling  him  doivn  by 

the  coat  as  he  comes  near  her).     "I  thought  I 

wasn't  mistaken.     I  smelled  it  clear  across 

the  room  the  minute  you  came  in." 
He  (after  a  pause) — "Smelled  what?" 
She  (looking  intently  at  the  flower-bed,  and 

biting  her  lower  lip) — "I  don't  know — some 

kind  of  liquor. ' ' 

He   (airily)— "Oh,   that?      I   told   Scham- 

wurst  I'd  get  a  lecture,  but — he  insisted." 


96 


DOC'    HORNE 


She — "I'm  afraid  I  haven't  the  pleasure 
of  knowing — Mr. — ah — your  friend." 

He— "Who,  Schamwurst?  He's  the  Ger- 
man that  owns  the  new  flat  building  just 
beyond  Berry  Avenue  there.  I've  handled 
most  of  his  business  for  two  or  three  years, 
and  I've  just  written  policies  to  cover  the 


"I    TOLD  SCHAMWURST    I'D    GET   A    LECTURE." 

new  building.  That's  how  I  happened  to  go 
into  his  place  to-day." 

She — "What  do  you  mean  by  his  place?" 

He — "Why,  I  mean  his  place  of  business, 
the  only  one  he  has." 

She— "It's  a  saloon,  isn't  it?" 

He — "Well,  yes,  it's  a  saloon — nice,  quiet 
German  place,  though." 


LIFE    IN    TWO    EPISODES       97 

She — "Why  didn't  this  man  come  to  your 
office  if  he  wanted  to  see  you?" 

He — "Well,  I  couldn't  very  well  ask  him 
to  come  all  the  way  downtown.  I'm  going 
after  business,  you  know.  I'm  not  asking 
business  to  hunt  me  up." 

She — "Then  why  didn't  you  go  and  see 
him  at  his  home?" 

He— "I'd  like  to  know  when  I'd  find  him 
at  home.  He's  in  the  saloon  all  day. 
Besides,  he  lives  upstairs,  and  I  suppose 
there  might  be  some  objection  to  my  visiting 
a  place  that  was  above  a  saloon." 

She — "It  seems  to  me  you  know  a  great 
deal  about  the  place"  (with  a  nervous  little 
laugJi}.  "You  must  be  a  frequent  visitor." 

He — "Oh,  pshaw!  I've  written  a  policy 
covering  his  home  place  and  I  know  he  lives 
upstairs." 

She  (decisively]—  "Well,  I  wouldn't  tran- 
sact any  business  with  a  saloon-keeper  if  I 
had  to  sit  around  a  doggery  and  drink 
liquor." 

He — "My  sitting  around  consisted  of  a 
very  brief  visit,  and  I  did  not  drink  any 
liquor." 

She— "What  was  it,  then?" 

He — "Well,  it  was — just  a  glass  of  beer — 


98  DOC'    HORNE 

some  kind  of  light  beer.  Schamwurst  was 
very  anxious  that  I  should  try  it  and  I— 

She — "He  wanted  to  get  you  started  so 
that  you'd  come  there  and  spend  your 
money.  That's  the  way  they  do." 

He — "Nonsense. " 

She — "Oh,  I'm  talking  nonsense,  am  I?" 

He — "Schamwurst  merely  wished  to  be 
courteous,  that's  all.  How  could  I  refuse 
him?  I  didn't  want  him  to  think  that  I  had 
any  prejudice  against  him,  on  account  of  his 
business.  Besides,  what's  one  little  glass  of 
beer?" 

She — "It  contains  alcohol,  doesn't  it?" 

He — "I  suppose  so.  I  don't  know  and  I 
don't  care." 

She— "Well!  I  think  you'd  better  go  and 
lie  down  a  while  if  beer  guzzling  has  that 
effect  on  you." 

He  (repressing  himself} — "I  have  told  you 
several  times  that  I  had  one  small  glass  of 
beer." 

She — "Well,  you  might  as  well  drink  a 
dozen,  so  far  as  the  principle  of  the  thing  is 
concerned — every  bit." 

He — "If  that's  the  case  I'm  sorry  I  didn't 
drink  the  dozen." 

She  (sniffling] — "I  suppose  you  are." 


LIFE    IN   TWO    EPISODES        99 

He-— "You  bet  I  am.  If  I'm  going  to 
have  the  reputation  of  being  a  drunkard  I 
might  as  well  have  some  fun  along  with  it. ' ' 

She — "If  I  were  you  I  wouldn't  be  in  any 
business  that  compelled  me  to  visit  these 
dens  and  drink  alcohol  and  come  home  to  my 
family  all — all  reeking  with — 

He — "Thank  you!  I  am  now  reeking,  am 
I?  I  suppose  I  am  more  or  less  intoxicated 
also?" 

She — "I  don't  care  to  talk  about  it  any 
more.  If  you  choose  to  go  into  saloons  and 
sit  around  and  drink  beer  I  don't  suppose 
that  anything  I  can  say  will  stop  you,  but  I 
do  think  you  ought  to  remember  that  you 
have  two  children  and  that  you  are  supposed 
to  be  a  member  of  the  church.  I  only  hope 
for  the  sake  of  the  family  that  none  of  our 
church  friends  will  ever  catch  you  coming 
out  of  one  of  those  places. " 

He — "That's  very  good.  Church  friends, 
indeed !  Don't  you  suppose  there  are  people 
in  that  church  who  keep  beer  right  in  their 
own  houses?" 

She — "That  isn't  any  reason  why  you 
should.  If  it  ever  comes  to  that,  that  you'll 
have  your  dram  right  here  in  the  house — 
where  the  children " 


ioo  DOC'    HORNE 

He — "Now,  who  saicl  anything  about 
bringing  stuff  into  this  house?" 

She — "Well,  if  you're  determined 'to  drink 
it,  I  don't  see  why  it  wouldn't  be  just  as 
well  for  the  children  to  see  it  here  as  to  find 
out  that  their  father  was  sitting  around  in 
these  resorts,  drinking  with  saloon-keepers." 

He  (arising  from  his  chair  and  "walking 
about  uneasily)— "All  right!  All  right!  I'll 
have  a  keg  sent  up  in  the  morning." 

She  (breaking] — "I — I — never  expected  to 
see  you  in  this  condition." 

He— "What condition?     Oh,  Great  Scott!" 

She  (arising  and  moving  toward  the  door 
with  the  handkerchief  at  her  eyes] — "I  don't 
— don't — think — you'd  talk  this  way  if 
you — ' ' 

He — "You're  quite  right.  I  am  runa's 
maniac.  Leave  me  alone,  and  I'll  sleep  off 
my  debauch." 

(She goes  out.} 


All  this  is  told  that  some  light  may  be 
thrown  on  the  married  man's  reiteration, 
"You  fellows  never  know  when  you're 
well  off." 


CHAPTER  X 

ACQUAINTANCES    OR    FRIENDS WHICH  ? 

Doc'  Home  regarded  his  associates  and 
fellow-roomers  at  the  Alfalfa  European 
Hotel  as  mere  acquaintances.  A  few  men 
had  floated  together  in  one  eddy  of  the  city's 
turbulence.  They  had  exchanged  names, 
swapped  stories  and  organized  themselves 
into  a  small  community  through  the  prompt- 
ings of  a  natural  hunger  for  companionship. 
Members  of  the  community  drifted  away 
and  were  lost,  and  those  remaining  behind 
did  not  seem  to  miss  them.  Strangers  came 
and  were  carelessly  received  into  fellowship. 
It  was  a  loose  sort  of  intercourse,  and  there 
was  no  evidence  that  any  genuine  friend- 
ships were  growing  out  of  the  chance  meet- 
ings. 

The  humiliating  encounter  with  the 
lush,  the  race-track  man's  endeavor  to  dis- 
credit the  story  of  Ohio  politics,  and  the 
freckled  boy's  persistence  in  talking  slangily 
about  himself  had  helped  to  convince  Doc* 
Home  that  the  dentist  was  his  only  friend, 

101 


102 


DOC'    HORNE 


and    that    he    (Doc')   could    be    happier  in 
another  hotel. 

It  is  possible    that  he   might  have  gone 
from  the  Alfalfa,  had  it  not  been  for  a  slight 
attack  of  illness  which  crum- 
pled him  in  bed  one  morning, 
freckled  boy   heard   of 
Doc's    illness    from 
the      chambermaid. 
He  went  to  the  room 
at    once    and   found 
Doc'    curled    under 
the  bed  clothes  into 
the  shape  of  a  letter 
S,    and   groaning 
dismally. 

"Great  heavens,  Doc'!"  he  exclaimed. 
''What's  the  matter?" 

'Oh,    my   dear   sir,"    replied  Doc',    with 
a  quavering  sigh  of  pain.     "Oh,  gee!" 
"A  fever,  Doc'?" 

"A  complication,  my  boy.  Liver  wrong 
— caught  cold  on  top  of  it.  I  haven't  had 
anything  of  this  kind  since  I  was  in  Wash- 
ington in  1874.  Oh,  dear!" 

"Well,  Doc',  old  boy,  if  there's  anything  I 
can  do  for  you,  you  bet  it's  me '11  do  it. 
When  any  friend  o'  mine  gets  laid  out  on  his 


THE   PATIENT. 


WHICH  ?  103 

back  there's  nothin'  too  good  for  him. 
Look  here !  That  dentist  has  got  some  new 
and  sassy  night-gowns.  I'll  go  and  pinch 
one  for  you,  so  that  you'll  look  good  and 
swell  when  any  one  comes  in  to  see  you." 

"Oh,  never  mind,"  said  Doc',  feebly, 
caressing  his  stomach  region. 

"Well,  I'll  do  it  just  the  same.  That  red 
flannel  you're  wearin'  may  be  comfortable, 
but,  on  the  level,  it  don't  help  your  looks 
any." 

So  he  went  out  and  intimidated  a  cham- 
bermaid, who  allowed  him  to  go  into  the 
dentist's  room,  and  he  returned  with  the 
"sassy"  garment.  Also,  he  loudly  ordered 
the  chambermaid  to  bring  clean  pillow- 
slips. 

The  gown  was  a  white,  starchy  garment 
with  red  scallops  around  the  neck  and  down 
the  front.  After  Doc'  had  put  on  the 
gown  and  propped  himself  up  against  two 
fat,  white  pillows  he  made  a  respectable 
appearance,  although  he  insisted  that  he 
suffered  as  much  as  ever. 

"I've  got  to  duck,"  said  the  freckled  boy. 
"I've  told  that  kid  to  come  up  here'  every 
little  while  to  see  what  you  want.  I'll  see 
you  later." 


104  DOC'    HORNE 

"Don't  put  yourself  out  on  my  account,5' 
said  Doc',  timidly. 

"Look  here!"  exclaimed  the  boy,  laying 
his  hand  on  the  old  man's  shoulder. 
"You're  sick,  and  we're  goin'  to  take  care 
of  you.  You  bet  if  there's  anything  you 
want  you  can  get  it. ' ' 

Doc'  tried  to  say  something,  but  failed.' 
He  simply  nodded. 

When  the  freckled  boy  went  downstairs 
he  met  the  lush,  to  whom  he  told  the 
news.  The  lush  was  on  his  way  to  the 
bar  to  try  a  gin  cocktail  as  a  remedy  for 
heartburn,  but  he  forgot  his  own  malady 
when  he  heard  about  Doc'. 

Without  waiting  for  the  slow  elevator  to 
come  down  he  bounded  up  the  stairway 
three  steps  at  a  time  and  dashed  into  Doc's 
little  room  at  the  end  of  the  hall. 

"By  George,  Doc',  you  must  excuse  me  for 
not  coming  up  sooner,  but  I  just  heard  about 
this." 

"I  didn't  give  in  until  last  night,"  said 
Doc'.  "My  physician  thinks  it's  nothing 
serious." 

"Well,  by  thunder,  you  know — can't  take 
any  chances.  Did  he  give  you  any  medi- 
cine?" 


WHICH? 


105 


"Yes;  some  capsules  and  drops." 

"Rats!  If  you've  got  a  cold  and  feel  sort 
of  run  down  the  best  thing  you  can  do  is  to 
get  a  bottle  of  good  whisky  and  hit  it  about 
every  half  hour.  Now,  Doc',  I'm  goin'  to 
get  you  some  that  I  know  is  all  right." 

"Maybe    I    hadn't 

better "    began 

Doc'. 

"Oh,  pshaw!  good 
whisky  can't  hurt 
you.  I've  been  this 
way  myself  two  or 
three  times,  and 
whisky  is  the  only 
thing  that  ever 
helped  me.  I'll  be 
back  in  a  little  while. ' ' 

He  hurried  away, 
and  fifteen  minutes 
later,  as  he  came  into 
the  office  with  a  basket  of  peaches  in  one 
hand  and  a  quart  bottle  of  whisky  in  the 
other,  he  met  the  race-track  man. 

"What  are  you  doing  with  that  stuff?" 
asked  the  race-track  man. 

"Great  Scott!  Haven't  you  heard? 
Doc's  laid  up  in  his  room  sick  as  he  can 


WITH    SUPPLIES. 


io6  DOC   HORNE 

be.  I've  been  out  buying  some  things  for 
him." 

"You  don't  expect  a  sick  man  to  eat  a 
peck  of  peaches,  do  you?" 

"A  little  fruit  won't  hurt  him.  I've  got  a 
quart  of  whisky  there  that  cost  me  two 
dollars.  That  ought  to  fix  him.  Come  on 
up  and  see  the  old  boy." 

"Sure,  I  will.  I  wonder  if  he's  got  any- 
thing to  read?  Expect  I'd  better  buy  some- 
thing." 

The  race -track  man  went  out  and  pur- 
chased all  the  morning  papers,  a  copy  of 
"Lovers  Once,  but  Strangers  Now,"  and  a 
New  York  weekly  paper  filled  with  scan- 
dalous half-tone  reproductions  of  photo- 
graphs. 

The  two  men  carried  their  supplies  up  to 
Doc's  room  and  laid  them  on  the  bed- 
spread in  front  of  him. 

"Honestly,  boys — this  is  too  much;  don't 
go  to  all  this  trouble,"  said  Doc',  who  was 
really  embarrassed. 

These  two  men,  of  all ! 

"I'm  rather  afraid  to  eat  fruit,"  he  said. 

"Well,  here's  something  you  needn't  be 
afraid  of,"  said  the  lush,  calling  attention 
to  the  bottle  of  whisky.  Merely  to  prove 


WHICH  ?  107 

that  the  liquor  was  all  right  he  drew  the 
cork  and  poured  a  heavy  drink  into  the  glass 
on  the  table  and  drank  it  with  great  ease. 

"Now,  Doc'/'  said  ne,  pouring  another 
drink. 

"I  expect  I'd  better  not  drink  anything 
until  I  see  my  physician,"  said  Doc'. 

"You  take  it  then,"  said  the  lush, 
offering  the  glass  to  the  race-track  man. 

"No,  I  never  drink  in  the  morning,"  was 
the  reply. 

The  lush  gazed  at  the  drink  thought- 
fully, and,  after  a  moment's  hesitancy, 
swallowed  it. 

"Now,  Doc',"  said  he,  "don't  you  want  me 
to  read  to  you?" 

"No,  I  don't  want  to  put  you  to  all 
that " 

"Get  out!  You  must  think  we're  bar- 
barians to  neglect  an  old  friend  when  he's 
sick.  I  can  stay  here  all  day  and  read  to 
you.  Say,  Doc',  on  the. square,  you  ought  to 
take  a  good  drink  of  that  liquor.  It  would 
put  new  life  into  you." 

"I'm  afraid  to  try  it." 

The  lush  spent  the  greater  part  of  the 
day  in  Doc's  bedroom,  striving  to  per- 
form various  services  for  the  patient.  At 


io8  DOC'    HORNE 

times  Doc'  would  be  calm  and  free  from 
pain,  and  at  other  times  he  would  rub  his 
stomach  region,  wince  and  groan.  At  such 
times  the  lush  would  become  greatly 
excited.  He  would  take  a  small  drink  to 
quiet  his  nerves  and  would  then  declare, 
with  some  profanity,  that  it  "broke  him  all 
up"  to  see  an  old  friend  suffer. 

When  the  lightning  dentist  arrived  at  the 
hotel  late  in  the  afternoon  and  heard  the 
news  from  Mr.  Ike  Francis,  he  ran  out  and 
purchased  a  bouquet  of  yellow  roses.  Going 
in  on  tiptoe,  he  laid  the  flowers  on  the 
spread. 

Doc'  saw  the  bouquet,  and  his  cup  ran 
over.  He  tried  to  blink  away  the  tears,  and 
the  lightning  dentist  was  so  embarrassed 
that  he  turned  and  went  out,  still  on  tiptoe. 

He  came  back  later,  when  he  was  sure 
that  he  could  control  his  feelings.  The 
lush  had  given  up  nursing,  and  retired  to 
his  room  to  take  a  nap. 

"You  boys  have  been  kind  to  me  to-day," 
said  Doc',  who  was  sitting  half-wa)^  up, 
with  the  yellow  roses  in  front  of  him.  "My 
God!  what  a  thing  it  is  to  have  friends! 
I've  made  fortunes  and  I've  lost  them,  but 
I  made  good  friends  and  I  never  lost  them. 


WHICH  ?  109 

It's  a  great  blessing,  my  dear  sir,  to  grow 
old  and  still  hold  to  your  faith  in  humanity. 
Even  that  freckled  boy " 

"Are  you  feeling  some  better  by  this 
time?" 

"I'll  be  all  right  to-morrow.  I  know 
these  attacks,  and  I  know  how  to  combat 
them." 

"I'd  spend  the  evening  with  you,  Doc', 
but  this  is  my  night  to  go  and  call  on 
Miss  Milbury. " 

"Is  she  the  one  you  mentioned  the  other 
day?" 

"Yes,  and  I'm  anxious  to  know  her 
better,  because  she's  darned  pretty  and 
seems  to  be  very  refined." 

"You  might  drop  in  after  you  get  home 
and  tell  me  what  kind  of  a  time  you  had." 

"I'd  like  to,  first-rate,  if  it  wouldn't  be 
disturbing  you.  If  you  fall  asleep  you 
wouldn't  want  to  be — 

"Oh,  that's  all  right.  Come  right  in. 
I'll  be  awake." 

Sure  enough,  Doc'  was  awake  when  the 
dentist  returned  from  his  call.  The  lush 
was  there.  After  taking  his  nap  he  had 
returned  to  his  post  of  duty  and  now  he  sat 
near  the  bedside,  gazing  at  Doc'  with  an 


no  DOC    HORNE 

expression  of  plaintive  solicitude  and  an  air 
of  wavering  sleepiness. 

"I'm  bringin'  him  'round  all  ri',"  he 
remarked. 

The  presents  were  on  the  table.  The 
infallible  remedy  in  the  quart  bottle  had 
been  reduced  in  quantity  until  it  was  half- 
way down  the  label,  but  the  basket  of 
peaches  was  still  unbroken. 

"You  had  a  pleasant  evening?"  asked 
Doc',  looking  up  from  the  pillows. 

"Great!"  replied  the  dentist,  not  choosing 
to  be  any  more  specific  in  the  presence  of 
the  lush. 

The  dentist  wore  light  gray  coat  and 
trousers,  patent-leather  shoes,  a  plaid  waist- 
coat of  hempen  material,  a  blue  and  white 
bow  tie  and  a  roan-colored  derby  hat.  On 
his  lapel  was  a  large  flower,  although  it  was 
small  for  a  peony. 

Catching  Doc's  eye,  he  looked  down  at 
the  flower  and  touched  it  with  his  thumb, 
and  then  Doc'  knew  she  had  given  it  to 
him. 

"Ain't  I  good  nurse,  Doc'?"  asked  the 
lush. 

"You  certainly  have  been  kind  and  faith- 
ful to-day,"  replied  Doc'. 


WHICH?  in 

"  Yes,  but  when  a  man's  laid  up,  a  woman 
is  the  only  one  who  can  take  care  of  him," 
suggested  the  dentist. 

"Oh,  I  don'  know,"  said  the  lush. 
"I'm  pretty  goo'  little  nurse  myself." 

"Just  the  same,  if  I'm  going  to  be  sick,  I 
want  a  woman  to  nurse  me,"  said  the 
dentist. 

"That's  where  a  woman  is  an  angel, 
gentlemen  —  a  ministering  angel,  sure 
enough,  is  in  the  sick-room,"  remarked 
Doc',  putting  his  head  higher  on  the  pil- 
low so  that  he  could  look  out  at  them. 
"Once  I  was  taken  suddenly  ill  in  New 
Orleans  and  had  to  go  to  the  hospital.  I 
was  delirious  for  four  weeks — clear  out  of 
my  head.  The  third  day  of  my  illness,  so 
they  told  me  afterward,  a  beautiful  woman 
attired  in  black  came  to  the  hospital  and 
asked  permission  to  nurse  me,  saying  that 
she  was  a  friend  of  mine.  Well,  sir,  that 
woman  was  at  my  bedside  almost  constantly 
for  a  month.  The  attendants  at  the  hos- 
pital said  they  never  witnessed  a  more  won- 
derful exhibition  of  gentleness  and  devotion. 
On  the  day  when  I  regained  consciousness 
this  woman  left  the  hospital  and  I  never 
could  learn  who  she  was  or  why  she  had 


ii2  DOC'    HORNE 

taken  such  an  interest  in  me.  I  made  every 
effort  to  find  her,  but  I  couldn't  do  it.  I 
guess  it's  time  to  take  another  of  those 
capsules. ' ' 

The  lush  was  willing  to  sit  up  all  night, 
but  the  dentist  understood,  and  succeeded 
in  taking  him  away.  When  they  were  in 
the  hallway  the  lush  said:  "New  Orleans 
— hoshpital.  Doc'  has  ev'y  slymptom  of 
man's  goin'  to  get  well." 


CHAPTER  XI 


the 


A    LECTURE    ON    THE    COCKTAIL 

Being  reestablished  in  warmest  fellow- 
ship with  the  members  of  the  hotel  colony, 
Doc'  looked  hopefully  toward  his  task  of 
rinding  a  wife  for  the  dentist,  and  then 
voluntarily  accepted  the 
burden  of  reforming 
lush. 

The  lush,  sober,  was 
a  well-behaved  person 
and  one  slow  to  admit 
that  he  ever  drank  too 
much  or  too  often. 
Like  other  drinking 
men,  he  believed  that 
he  could  deceive  him- 
self and  deceive  others. 
If  any  one  had  sug- 
gested "reform"  to 
him,  he  would  have 
been  deeply  hurt, 
reform? 


ABSTINENCE. 


What    was    there    to 


113 


ii4  DOC'    HORNE 

Acting  under  the  orders  of  a  physician, 
once  he  had  stopped  drinking  for  a  full  week. 
That  is,  he  drank  only  Jamaica  ginger  and 
hard  cider  during  this  period  of  abstinence, 
on  the  technical  claim  that  they  were  not 
alcoholic  liquors.  He  changed  his  diet  also, 
and  ate  lunches  somewhat  like  the  follow- 
ing: 

Turtle  Soup  with  sherry. 

Rum  Omelette. 

Maraschino  Punch. 

Mince  Pie  with  brandy  sauce. 

He  kept  the  pledge  for  a  week,  and  was  in 
misery  most  of  the  time,  and  then  went 
back  to  drinking,  announcing  that  the 
experiment  was  a  failure. 

Doc'  had  talked  with  him  in  private  and 
suggested,  with  much  diplomacy,  that  he 
drink  nothing  but  lithia  water  for  a  full 
month. 

"That  stuff  is  poison  to  me,  Doc',"  he 
would  say.  "I  know  what  you  want.  You 
want  me  to  let  up  on  the  other  thing,  but 
you're  wrong.  Doc' — you  are,  for  a  fact." 
He  was  not  deeply  offended.  In  fact,  he 
was  rather  amused  that  any  one  should 
think  it  advisable  for  him  to  change  his 
habits. 


LECTURE    ON    COCKTAIL     115 

One  evening,  in  front  of  the  hotel,  he 
announced  that  he  had  found  a  drink  cure. 

"You've  been  giving  me  good  advice, 
Doc',''  he  said,  nudging  the  dentist,  "and  so 
you'll  be  interested  to  know  that  I've  found 
something  that  will  cure  any  man  of  drink- 
ing." 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Doc',  declining  to 
be  amused. 

"A  German  cocktail.  Did  you  ever  notice 
what  happens  in  a  German  garden  when  you 
order  a  cocktail?  Well,  it  simply  throws  all 
the  machinery  out  of  gear.  The  waiter  has 
to  go  and  consult  the  manager,  and  the 
manager  calls  a  conference  of  bartenders, 
and  they  all  get  together  and  talk  it  over, 
and  then  somebody  gets  out  a  book  and 
reads  the  directions.  They  put  a  tumbler 
out  on  the  bar,  and  every  man  who  remem- 
bers anything  that  goes  into  a  cocktail  comes 
and  drops  it  into  this  tumbler.  I  don't 
know  myself,  but  a  friend  of  mine  says  that 
the  first  thing  a  German  puts  into  a  cocktail 
is  a  jigger  °f  Pilsener  beer.  Then  they 
begin  on  the  green  bottles  behind  the  bar 
and  finish  up  with  a  little  Rhine  wine  and  a 
straw.  I  know  it  took  them  a  half-hour  to 
compound  this — whatever  it  was  they 


n6  DOC'    HORNE 

brought  me  the  other  night.  It  came  on  in 
a  kind  of  a  small  fruit  dish  and  had  cherries, 
orange  peel,  watermelon,  pineapple  and 
several  other  kinds  of  fruit  around  the 
edges,  and  some " 

"I  guess  it  wasn't  as  bad  as  that,"  said 
the  dentist,  laughing. 

"Well,  it  broke  all  records  with  me.  It 
seemed  to  have  every  ingredient  except  the 
one  that  makes  a  cocktail  worth  drinking. 
I  know  I  could  taste  the  caraway  seed  in  it. 
They  put  a  few  caraway  seeds  into  every- 
thing. But  I  drank  it,  and  then  I  came 
back  here  to  the  hotel  and  had  a  dream  that 
I'll  remember  if  I  live  to  be  a  million  years 
old.  This  cocktail  was  giving  me  trouble, 
and  I  wasn't  sure  that  I  could  sleep.  I 
think  I  did  fall  asleep,  however.  I  hope  I 
was  asleep  when  it  happened. 

"I  felt  something  tickling  my  feet,  and  I 
looked  up  over  the  covers,  and  there  was  a 
yellow  monkey  sitting  011  the  foot-board. 
He  says,  'What  time  is  it?'  I  told  him  I 
didn't  know.  Then  he  says,  'Don't  you 
remember  me?'  I  told  him  that  his  face 
was  familiar,  but  I  couldn't  place  him.  He 
laughed  very  pleasantly,  and  then  he  began 
mixing  drinks.  He'd  balance  one  glass  on 


LECTURE   ON    COCKTAIL     117 

his  head  and  curl  his  tail  around  another 
glass  containing  the  drink.  He'd  give  his 
tail  a  flip  and  send  the  liquor  up  into  the  air, 
and  it  would  all  come  down  in  the  glass  on 
his  head  without  spilling  a  drop.  Then  he'd 
change  glasses  and  repeat  the  performance. 

"I  complimented  him  on  his  dexterity,  or 
rather  his  caudality,  and  then  he  told  me 
he'd  like  to  introduce  a  friend.  I  said,  'All 
right,'  so  he  put  the  end  of  his  tail  in  his 
mouth  and  blew  on  it,  like  a  whistle,  and  a 
polka-dot  alligator  crawled  up  on  the  foot- 
board and  sat  down  alongside  the  monk.  I 
must  say  the  alligator  worried  me  a  little. 
He  was  black,  with  white  spots,  and  he  had 
electric  lights  in  his  eyes.  I  saw  something 
like  it  once  before  at  a  variety  theater.  One 
eye  would  go  out  and  the  other  would  keep 
on  shining,  and  then  they'd  change  about. 
Then  both  would  go  out  for  a  minute. 
Sometimes  they'd  simply  blink,  rapidly. 

"The  alligator  looked  at  me,  and  then  he 
said  to  the  monkey,  'What  time  did  he  say  it 
was?'  The  monkey  told  him  I  didn't  know, 
and  then  both  of  them  laughed.  By 
George,  that  alligator  had  the  most  disagree- 
able laugh  I  ever  heard  in  all  my  life ! 

"The  monkey  jumped  down  on  the  bed- 


n8 


DOC'    HORNE 


spread  and  walked  up  and  sat  on  the  pillow 
right  beside  my  head.  He  began  smooth- 
ing back  my  hair,  using  first  one  paw  and 
then  the  other.  One  was  as  hot  as  fire  and 
the  other  as  cold  as  ice.  In  the  meantime 
Mr.  Alligator  sat  on  the  foot- 
board and  gave  me  the  laugh. 
All  at  once  he 
yelled,  'Get  his  eye!' 
The  next  thing  I 
knew  that  monkey 
had  his  hind  legs 
twined  around  my 
neck  and  was  trying 
to  take  one  of  my 
eyes  out.  It  occurred 
to  me  that  he  was 
presuming  too  much 
on  short  acquaintance,  and  I  made  a  fight, 
but  he  was  too  good  for  me.  He  got  the 
eye  all  right.  Yes,  and  as  soon  as  he  got 
it,  he  made  a  jump  clear  out  into  the 
middle  of  the  floor.  Then,  what  do  you 
think?  Why,  he  and  the  alligator  moved 
the  dresser  out  from  the  wall  and  began  to 
play  'ant'ny  over'  with  my  eye.  Wasn't 
that  a  nerve  for  you?  It  was  the  first  game 
of  'ant'ny  over'  I'd  seen  since  I  was  a  boy. 


GET  HIS  EYE! 


LECTURE   ON   COCKTAIL     119 

"When  the  alligator  got  excited  he  stood 
right  up  and  balanced  himself  on  the  tip  of 
his  tail,  and  the  electric  lights  in  his  eyes 
changed  colors.  One  moment  they'd  be 
blue,  then  green,  then  red,  and  so  on.  I 
sat  there  watching  the  game  for  ten  minutes 
or  more,  I  should  judge,  and  then  I  looked 
around,  and  in  the  corner  of  the  room  was 
something  that  looked  like  a  prairie  wolf 
keeping  score!  That's  the  last  I  remem- 
ber. I  think  I  must  have  rolled  over  in  bed 
and  started  another  set  of  wheels." 

"Merciful  Providence!"  gasped  the  den- 
tist. "All  that  from  one  cocktail?" 

"I  had  other  things,  but  it  was  the  cock- 
tail— one  German  cocktail — that  made  all 
the  trouble.  That's  why  I  call  it  the  drink 
cure.  The  man  who  tackles  one  of  those 
every  night  will  either  stop  or  else  they'll 
carry  him  away  with  a  floral  monkey  on  top 
of  the  casket." 

"The  cocktail  is  an  enemy  to  normal 
civilization,"  said  Doc',  leaning  back  in 
his  chair  and  assuming  the  manner  of  a 
lecturer  in  a  college  of  law.  "It  is  a  con- 
vivial little  devil,  prompting  us  to  take  what 
we  do  not  need. 

"Half  the  people  nowadays  are  not  satis- 


120  DOC    HORNE 

fied  with  simple  and  plain  food.  A  man 
has  to  hit  his  stomach  with  a  fiery  cocktail 
before  he  can  eat  a  bite.  Then  he  sits  down 
and  begins  putting  mustard,  horseradish, 
chili  sauce,  pepper  and  other  stuff  on  his 
meat  before  it  has  the  right  sting.  Is  it 
any  wonder  that  he  gets  his  system  into  such 
a  condition  that  an  oyster  cracker  has  no 
more  taste  than  a  paper  wad?  Why,  you'll 
see  a  man  put  a  drop  of  tabasco  sauce  on 
each  cracker  so  that  he  will  know  the 
cracker  is  there.  The  tabasco  sauce  helps 
him  to  locate  it." 

"That's  no  lie,"  said  the  lush,  for  he 
was  addicted  to  the  habit  of  eating  loaded 
crackers. 

"My  old  home  in  Pennsylvania  was  three 
miles  from  the  schoolhouse, "  said  Doc'. 
"I  used  to  walk  it  every  morning  and  carry 
my  books  and  a  little  basket  of  lunch. 
Sometimes  it  would  be  colder  than  Green- 
land's icy  mountains,  but  I'd  put  on  my 
yarn  mittens  and  wrap  my  comforter  around 
my  head,  and  go  the  whole  three  miles  on  a 
dog-trot — yes,  sir.  By  the  time  we  got  our 
noon  recess  I  was  ready  to  eat  everything  in 
that  basket,  even  if  it  were  cold  bread  and 
butter  and  doughnuts.  Then  when  school 


LECTURE   ON    COCKTAIL     121 

was  over,  you'd  see  me  tramping  down  that 
long  lane,  kicking  up  the  snow — perfectly 
contented,  you  know.  I  didn't  need  any 
cable  cars  to  haul  me  around. 

"I'd  get  home  about  dusk  and  hurry  out 
to  help  with  the  chores.  We'd  have  to  feed 
the  stock  and  put  down  some  hay  and  milk 
the  cows,  and  then  I'd  get  in  my  wood. 


NO    CABLE   CARS. 

Before  I'd  get  through  it  would  be  dark. 
I'd  come  into  the  house,  and  there  would  be 
my  mother  in  the  kitchen,  standing  in  front 
of  our  old  cast-iron  stove,  her  sleeves  rolled 
up,  stirring  a  pot  of  mush.  She'd  always 
order  me  out  of  the  kitchen,  but  I'd  stay, 
just  the  same.  A  hungry  boy  always  likes 
to  see  the  supper  cooked." 

"That's  so,"  said  the  dentist,  with  a  sigh. 


122  DOC    HORNE 

"Well,  sir,  that  mush  would  boil  and 
sputter  so  that  mother  would  have  to  stand 
off  at  arm's  length  when  she  stirred  it,  and 
how  that  old  stove  would  roar  and  get  red 
in  the  face !  Wouldn't  have  any  light  in  the 
room  except  one  candle  and  what  came 
through  the  cracks  in  the  stove.  I  can 
remember  just  as  well  how  she  used  to 
swing  that  pot  off  of  the  stove  and  pour  the 
hot  mush  into  a  big — I  don't  know  what  you 
call  it — a  deep  dish  with  blue  stripes  around 
it.  Then  while  the  mush  was  cooling,  she'd 
get  a  pitcher  of  milk — and  it  was  milk,  too. ' ' 

"I'll  bet  it  was,"  said  the  lightning  den- 
tist, warmly. 

"Gentlemen,  I  have  eaten  famous  dinners 
in  my  day.  I've  eaten  dinners  at  which  the 
smallest  course  meant  a  dollar  of  some- 
body's money,  but  do  you  think  I  enjoyed 
them  as  I  did  that  mush  and  milk  at  home? 
No,  sir!  and  I  didn't  have  to  go  out  and 
drink  any  Manhattan  cocktails  to  get  up  an 
appetite  either.  I  had  my  appetite  ready." 

"And  you  had  it  with  you,"  suggested  the 
lush. 

"I  had  it  with  me.  I  suppose  that  some- 
where in  this  world  there  is  mush  and  milk 
just  as  good  as  mother  prepared  it,  but  I 


LECTURE    ON    COCKTAIL     123 

can't  find  it.  But,  as  I  say,  gentlemen, 
maybe  I'm  to  blame  more  than  the  mush  or 
milk  is.  You  take  any  kind  of  stomach  and 
let  it  go  against  bad  hotels  and  queer 
restaurants  for  a  period  of  years  and  it  may 
become  a  little  discouraged. ' ' 

"That  settles  it,  Doc',"  said  the  lush. 
"You've  converted  me.  I  believe  I'll  order 
some  mush  and  milk. " 

"Be  careful,"  said  the  dentist;  "it  may 
poison  )^ou. " 

"I  believe  it  would.  Well,  I'll  compro- 
mise by  going  into  .Steve's  and  getting  a 
milk  punch, ' ' 


CHAPTER    XII 


ONE    OBJECTION    TO    MISS    MILBURY 

After  the  dentist  had  called  at  the  Milbury 
flat  three  times  and  had  taken  Miss  Letitia 
Milbury  to  the  theater  once,  he  made  a  suc- 
cessful effort  to  have  Doc'  Home  invited  to 
dinner.  The  dentist 
was  more  fond  of 
Miss  Milbury  every 
time  they  met.  He 
was  supremely  con- 
fident that  Doc' 
would  like  her,  for 
she  was  in  the  bloom 
of  what  he  judged 
to  be  twenty-two  and 
had  no  shortcoming's 
of  any  kind.  In  re- 
gard to  size,  she  was 
nor  too  small.  He 
had  described  her  to  Doc'  as  "a  plump 
figure."  It  seemed  to  him  that  her  hair  was 
brown — certainly  it  was  combed  in  a  most 
bewitching  fashion.  She  talked  readily, 
124 


LETITIA. 

neither     too     large 


ONE   OBJECTION  125 

and  sympathized  with  him  in  all  opinions  he 
had  ever  expressed  to  her.  She  could  play 
the  piano  and  sing. 

Her  mother  had  been  mentioned  to  Doc' 
as  a  "fine  old  girl."  The  dentist  antici- 
pated no  difficulty  in  falling  deeply  in  love 
with  Miss  Letitia  Milbury.  Before  doing 
so,  he  wished  to  keep  his  agreement  with 
Doc'  Home.  But  he  had  no  fears.  He 
knew  that  his  elderly  friend  would  indorse 
the  peerless  creature.  Could  any  one  help 
liking  her? 

If  the  dentist  had  been  candid  with  him- 
self he  would  have  admitted  that  his  true 
reason  for  wishing  to  have  Doc'  invited  to 
dinner  was  quite  selfish.  He  wished  to 
exhibit  Miss  Milbury  as  a  prospective  pos- 
session. He  believed  that  Doc'  would  be 
surprised  and  impressed,  perhaps  made  a 
trifle  envious. 

He  secured  the  invitation  for  Doc'  by  the 
most  shameless  lobbying.  He  repeatedly 
said  to  Miss  Milbury:  "I  have  a  friend,  Doc' 
Home,  down  at  the  hotel,  that  I'm  sure  you 
and  your  mother  would  like  to  know." 

When  Miss  Milbury  invited  the  dentist  to 
come  to  the  flat  for  dinner  he  said,  in  pursu- 
ance of  his  set  policy;  "Yes,  indeed,  I'll 


126  DOC'    HORNE 

come,  and  sometime  or  other,  when  I'm 
coming  out  here  to  dinner,  or  any  other 
time,  I  want  to  bring  Doc'  Home  with  me 
— you  know,  my  friend  I've  spoken  about  so 
often." 

Then  Miss  Milbury  said,  with  exclamatory 
eagerness :  "Why,  bring  him  out  this  time ! ' ' 

The  dentist  said  that  he  couldn't  possibly 
think  of  it,  especially  after  he  had  said  what 
he  had.  It  looked  too  much  as  if- — but 
some  time  or  other  he  would  bring  Doc'  out 
to  the  flat,  knowing  that  both  Miss  Milbury 
and  her  mother  would  like  him,  because  he 
was  a  very  superior  gentleman. 

"Why  wait?"  asked  Miss  Milbury. 
"Bring  him  this  time.  That  will  make 
just  four." 

Thus  overthrown  by  her  persuasions,  the 
dentist  agreed  to  have  Doc'  at  the  flat  on 
the  following  Thursday  evening. 

Doc'  was  rather  taken  by  surprise  when 
told,  in  the  most  summary  manner,  that  he 
was  to  be  and  appear  at  the  Milbury 
flat. 

"My  dear  sir,  are  you  attempting  to  bring 
me  back  to  all  that  I  forswore  many. years 
ago?"  asked  Doc',  taking  hold  of  the  den- 
tist's arm,  which  was  a  most  friend-like 


ONE    OBJECTION  127 

manifestation  for  him.  "Are  you  going  to 
start  me  to  dining  out  again?" 

"Oh,  but  this  once,  Doc',  you  must 
come,"  said  the  dentist.  "I've  promised 
them." 

"Well,  if  I  do  accept,  it  will  be  making  an 
exception  to  the  rule,"  he  said.  "Every 
day  or  two  I  meet  on  the  street  here  some 
man  I  used  to  know  in  New  York,  or  Harris- 
burg,  or  Richmond,  or  some  other  place,  and 
it's  always  the  same  thing — 'Home,  when 
can  you  come  out  and  take  dinner  with  me?' 
If  I  started  in  to  accept  these  invitations  I'd 
be  laid  up  with  the  gout  in  three  months' 
time.  Besides,  I  stopped  drinking  cham- 
pagne )7ears  ago,  and  if  I  went  with  these 
men  it  would  be  that  or  nothing.  So,  for 
various  reasons,  I  invariably  beg  off." 

The  dentist  assured  him  that  the  Mil- 
burys  would  not  urge  him  to  drink  cham- 
pagne. 

"Thursday  evening — Thursday  evening — 
let  me  see.  No,  I  haven't  any  conflicting 
engagements.  You  say  there'll  be  only  the 
four  of  us?" 

"Only  four,  Doc',  and  I  know  you'll  like 
them,  because  they're  fine  people." 

So    it  was    settled    that    Doc'  would  go. 


128  DOC'    HORNE 

Then,  as  luck  would  have  it,  he  and  the 
dentist  had  to  run  the  gauntlet  as  they  came 
out  of  the  hotel  at  six  o'clock  on  Thursday 
evening,  for  the  lush  and  the  freckled  boy 
and  a  dozen  weary  transients  were  sitting 
outside  the  front  door,  and  they  stared  with 
surprise  at  the  dentist's  waistcoat,  which  was 
cream-colored,  and  his  cravat,  which  was 
blue,  and.  his  saddle-colored  shoes,  which 
had  a  coppery  polish.  As  for  Doc',  his 
familiar  black  suit  had  been  thoroughly 
brushed,  and  the  white  lawn  tie  put  a  dash 
of  the  clerical  into  his  appearance. 

"Look,  look!"  whispered  the  freckled 
boy,  as  the  two  approached,  and  he 
nudged  the  lush.  "Wouldn't  that  more'n 
jolt  you?" 

"Good  evening,  gentlemen,"  said  Doc', 
with  the  least  inclination  of  the  head.  The 
dentist  adjusted  his  cravat  and  looked 
straight  ahead,  trying  to  be  unconscious. 
He  seemed  to  be  in  a  hurry. 

"Give  the  girls  my  regards,"  said  the 
lush,  as  the  two  passed  him.  "Um-m-m! 
Smell  the  perfumery.  What  is  it,  orange 
bitters?" 

The  dentist  flushed,  but  made  no  response. 
He  had  betrayed  his  secret,  however. 


ONE    OBJECTION  129 

From  that  moment  until  the  day  he  left 
the  hotel  to  be  married,  he  was  under  scru- 
tiny. 

It  seemed  to  the  dentist  that  Doc'  was  a 
bit  restless  and  apprehensive  for  a  man  who 
had  known  Richmond  society  before  the 
war,  had  done  a  great  deal  of  dancing  in 
Philadelphia,  had  been  on  the  stage  for  three 
months  at  one  time,  had  been  challenged  to 
fight  on  account  of  a  Memphis  belle,  and 
had  fascinated  a  Brazilian  senorita  without 
one  effort  to  be  more  attractive  than  usual. 
Several  times  Doc'  adjusted  his  cuffs  and 
the  white  lawn  bow,  wiped  his  palms  with 
the  handkerchief  and  asked,  without  seem- 
ing to  remember  that  he  had  asked  the  ques- 
tion before,  "How  long  shall  we  remain 
after  dinner?"  To  which  the  dentist  replied 
that  they  would  depart  as  soon  as  he  (Doc') 
was  ready  to  go,  but  there  probably  would 
be  no  inclination  to  hurry  away,  as  the  Mil- 
burys  were  "fine  people." 

The  dentist  made  allowance  for  the  fact 
that  Doc'  had  been  out  of  society  for  several 
seasons,  and  was  about  to  meet  strangers. 
He  felt  sure  that  at  the  proper  time,  with 
the  encouragement  given  by  Miss  Milbury 
and  her  mother,  Doc'  would  come  to  himself 


130  DOC    HORNE 

and  appeal  to  the  women  as  being  all  that 
the  dentist  had  promised. 

For  the  first  five  minutes  at  the  flat  Doc' 
sat  speechless  and  mournful,  listening,  with 
dull  gaze,  to  the  criticism  of  the  play  which 
the  dentist  and  Miss  Milbury  had  attended. 
Once  or  twice  he  sighed  secretively  and 
acted  as  if  he  were  about  to  turn  and  sit 
sidewise  in  the  chair,  but  on  discovering 
that  he  was  being  watched,  he  changed  his 
plans.  The  dentist  was  worried.  Miss  Mil- 
bury  had  expected  an  immediate  perform- 
ance. 

Doc's  first  effort  at  speech  was  in  refer- 
ence to  a  photograph  on  the  mantel. 
After  looking  at  it  for  a  full  minute  he 
doubtfully  broke  a  lull  in  the  talk  and  asked, 
"Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  tell  me,  Miss 
Milbury,  who  the  original  of  that  photograph 
is — or  was?" 

"Oh,  that?     That's  my  uncle. " 

"Is  the  name  Flanders?" 

"No— Milbury." 

"I  thought  at  first  it  was  my  friend  Flan- 
ders who  used  to  have  a  studio  in  Brooklyn. " 

"No,  that's  Uncle  Jim.  He  has  a  nursery 
in  Danville." 

Doc'  was  not  acquainted  in  Danville,  so 


ONE   OBJECTION 


he  fell  out  of  the  conversation,  which 
reverted  to  the  subject  of  the  drama,  and 
then  Mrs.  Milbury  came  in.  She  surprised 
Doc',  for  she  was 
1  a  r  g  e — very  large. 
The  dentist  had  told 
of  her  cordiality,  her 
goodness  of  heart, 
her  ability  to  make 
one  "feel  at  home"  as 
soon  as  one  sat  down 
beside  her,  but  he 
had  not  prepared 
Doc'  to  meet  a 
woman  of  such 
weight  and  girth, 
and  so  he  was  un-  MRS.  MILBURY. 

nerved  at  the  moment  of  introduction  and 
mumbled  his  line,  which  he  had  rehearsed 
to  himself  as  follows:  "Madam,  I  am  both 
charmed  and  delighted  to  make  your  ac- 
quaintance." 

At  the  table  Doc'  faced  Mrs.  Milbury, 
and  the  dentist  sat  opposite  the  daughter. 
A  frightened  servant,  whom  Mrs.  Milbury 
addressed  as  "Eliza,"  brought  in  the  roast, 
the  vegetables,  the  light  biscuit,  and  the 
tea.  During  the  meal  the  conversation 


132  DOC    HORNE 

back  and  forth  revealed  to  Doc'  that  Mrs. 
Milbury  was  a  widow,  that  she  had  enough 
property  to  supply  an  income,  that  she  and 
Letitia  had  come  to  Chicago  from  a  town  of 
five  thousand  that  Letitia  might  "take 
music,"  and  that  they  had  found  it  rather 
lonesome  in  the  city  at  first,  but  lately  they 
had  been  meeting  some  "lovely  people." 

"Including  my  young  friend  here,"  said 
Doc',  with  an  unfolding  gesture  of  the  right 
arm  toward  the  dentist. 

This  was  the  first  evidence  that  he  was 
regaining  his  powers.  Probably  the  tea  had 
something  to  do  with  it. 

After  they  had  returned  to  the  front  room 
and  Mrs.  Milbury  had  urged  them  to  smoke, 
and  Doc'  had  found  a  comfortable  chair, 
Miss  Milbury  sang  "Oh,  Promise  Me,"  with 
the  dentist  turning  the  music.  Mrs.  Mil- 
bury  found  a  palm-leaf  fan  for  Doc'  and  told 
him  that  she  always  liked  to  see  a  man 
enjoying  his  evening  cigar.  Thus,  one 
cheering  influence  after  another  helped  to 
make  Doc'  conversational. 

Miss  Milbury  had  been  longing  to  go  to 
a  summer  resort,  and  this  led  Doc'  to 
observe  that  he  hoped  to  spend  a  few  weeks 
at  one  of  the  northern  lakes  if  he  could 


ONE    OBJECTION  133 

arrange  his  business  affairs  so  as  to  get 
away  from  town. 

"Are  you  fond  of  boating,  Doctor?" 
asked  Mrs.  Milbury. 

* '  I  am  fond  of  all  forms  of  outdoor  sports, 
Mrs.  Milbury,  especially  .swimming,"  he 
replied.  "Atone  time  I  considered  myself 
quite  a  swimmer,  but  I  haven't  swum  a  long 
distance  for — let  me  see — seventeen  years 
ago  this  summer.  Yes,  it  was  the  year  of 
the  presidential  election.  I'll  tell  you,  I  had 
to  let  myself  out  that  time. " 

"On  a  bet?"  asked  the  dentist. 

"Oh,  no — no,  sir,  I  wouldn't  attempt  any- 
thing of  the  kind  merely  for  a  bet.  No,  I 
had  to  catch  a  train." 

"Why,  how  strange!"  exclaimed  Miss 
Milbury. 

"Wait  until  I  tell  you  the  circumstances 
and  you'll  understand.  Have  you  ever  been 
to  Lake  Plankinac?  Beautiful  place!  I 
used  to  go  up  there  to  rest  and  ride  around 
in  the  boats  for  a  few  days  at  a  time.  As  I 
told  you,  this  was  seventeen  years  ago.  I 
remember,  because  I  had  been  doing  some 
confidential  work  during  the  presidential 
campaign.  I  was  at  Plankinac  and  had 
been  there  three  days,  and  this  happened 


134 


DOC'    HORNE 


on  the  afternoon  when  I  was  to  start  home. 
The  lake  was  about  four  miles  long  and  two 
miles  wide.  The  hotel  where  I  stopped  was 
toward  the  north  end  of  the  lake.  There 
was  a  railroad  station  there  and  another 


"I    HAD   A   NICE,    LIGHT   CEDAR   BOAT." 

station  at  the  south  end  of  the  lake,  three 
miles  away.  I  was  to  take  a  five  o'clock  train 
for  Milwaukee,  where  I  was  to  meet  a  certain 
gentleman  and  have  a  most  important  in- 
terview with  him.  It  was  absolutely  neces- 
sary that  I  should  catch  this  train. 


ONE   OBJECTION  135 

11 'About  an  hour  before  train-time  I  went 
out  to  take  a  final  row.  I  jumped  into  the 
boat  and  pulled  away  toward  the  south  end 
of  the  lake.  That  was  my  usual  ride — down 
to  the  south  end  of  the  lake  and  back. 
Well,  I  had  a  nice,  light  cedar  boat  and  I 
was  making  fair  speed — I  suppose  a  mile  in 
eight  minutes  or  so,  when  all  at  once  I 
went  crash !  into  a  piling  that  had  been  sunk 
in  a  sandbar.  The  fishermen  used  to  tie 
to  this  piling  and  then  drift  away  so  as  to 
fish  just  off  the  bar.  The  piling  stood  just 
above  the  water,  and  I  tore  a  hole  in  that 
cedar  boat  that  you  could  have  put  your  foot 
through. 

"I  got  the  boat  lifted  and  pulled  it  off, 
and  of  course  the  water  poured  in  so  that 
there  was  no  hope  of  keeping  afloat.  I 
jumped  back  into  the  stern,  pulled  off  my 
shoes  and  swung  them  around  my  neck,  tied 
together,  and  lowered  myself  into  the  water. 
The  boat  was  completely  water-logged,  and 
I  knew  I  couldn't  use  the  oars,  but  I 
thought  I  could  swim  along  behind  the  boat 
and  push  it  .back  to  the  hotel.  I  tried  it, 
but  it  was  slow  work,  because  a  live  breeze 
had  sprung  up  from  the  north  and  the  waves 
were  rolling  against  me.  I  saw  that  it 


136  DOC'    HORNE 

would  take  me  an  hour  or  more  to  get  back 
to  the  hotel  working  that  way,  and  I 
remembered  all  at  once  that  I  had  to  catch 
the  five  o'clock  train.  I  was  at  least  a  mile 
from  shore,  considerably  over  two  miles 
from  the  hotel,  and  a  good  long  mile  from 
the  railway  station  at  the  south  end  of  the 
lake.  I  saw  that  if  I  expected  to  reach  the 
shore  at  all  in  time  to  catch  the  train  I  would 
have  to  make  for  the  south  end.  I  let  the 
boat  swing  around  and  started  to  swim 
behind  it,  pushing  it  with  the  wind.  I 
made  better  headway,  but  it  was  pretty  mean 
work,  because  the  boat  was  half-full  of 
water,  and  just  as  heavy  as  a  drag.  I  knew 
that  the  hotel  people  would  recover  the  boat 
all  right,  so  I  simply  let  it  go,  and  I  started 
for  the  shore  alone.  I  figured  that  I  had  no 
time  to  waste  if  I  wanted  to  catch  that  train, 
so  I  swam  with  my  long  overhand  sailor 
stroke — I've  always  found  that  I  can  make 
better  speed  that  way.  The  wind  kept  get- 
ting higher,  and  for  the  last  half  mile  or  so 
I  was  riding  in  the  white  caps.  I  want  to 
tell  you,  ladies,  that  even  in  a  little  lake, 
four  miles  long,  you  can  get  up  a  pretty 
good  sea  if  you  get  the  wind  to  coming 
right.  I  didn't  mind  the  waves,  however, 


ONE   OBJECTION  137 

because  they  sort  of  helped  me  along. 
When  I  was  about  a  hundred  yards  from  the 
shore  I  heard  the  engine  whistle  for  the 
station  at  the  north  of  the  lake.  I  was 
somewhat  exhausted  by  that  time,  naturally 
enough.  I  had  often  swum  longer  distances 
than  that,  but  never  before  had  I  attempted 
to  keep  up  such  a  speed.  I  could  see  the 
train  coming  along  through  the  woods,  and 
I  made  a  final  spurt." 

"Did  you  ever!"  observed  Mrs.  Milbury, 
with  an  upward  roll  of  the  eyes. 

"Just  as  I  came  out  on  the  bank  the  train 
stopped  at  the  station,  and  1  had  to  make  a 
run.  I  swung  on  the  platform  as  the  wheels 
began  to  turn.  I  got  on  the  train  on  the  side 
opposite  the  station,  and,  for  that  reason, 
the  people  on  the  platform  didn't  see  me. 

"I  sat  out  on  the  front  end  of  the  car  until 
the  conductor  came  along,  and  then 
explained  my  predicament  to  him.  Luckily 
he  recognized  me — I  had  been  over  the  road 
two  or  three  times  with  a  party  of  gentle- 
men in  a  private  car — and  he  put  the  bag- 
gage car  at  my  disposal  so  I  could  dry  my 
clothes. 

"It  was  late  in  the  evening  when  I  arrived 
in  Milwaukee.  I  took  a  carriage  up  to  my 


'3* 


DOC'    HORNE 


hotel,  and  when  I  walked  in,  the  clerk  gave 
a  yell  and  threw  up  both  hands.  You  see, 
the  hotel  people  up  at  Plankinac  had  found 
the  boat,  and  they  supposed,  of  course,  that 
I  had  been  drowned,  so  they  had  tele- 
graphed the  news  to  Milwaukee  and  from 
Milwaukee  it  had  been  sent  all  over  the 
country  by  the  Asso- 
ciated Press.  I  hurried 
around  to  the  newspa- 
per offices  to  deny  the 
rumor.  At  one  place 
they  had  an  obituary 
notice  about  two  col- 
umns long  already  set 
up.  The  funniest  part 
of  it  all  was  what  the 
THE  OVERHAND  STROKE,  people  up  at  Plankinac 
said.  They  declared 

that  no  man  could  have  swum  ashore  in 
such  rough  water,  but  the  conductor  told 
his  story  and  they  had  to  give  in." 

"Well,  I  think  it's  perfectly  wonderful 
that  you  had  the  courage  to  strike  out  from 
that  boat  and  swim  such  a  long  distance," 
said  Miss  Milbury. 

"I  wanted  to  catch  that  train,  and  I 
caught  it,"  said  Doc'. 


ONE   OBJECTION  139 

Both  the  women  were  so  interested  in  this 
feat  of  swimming  that  Doc'  had  to  tell  them 
of  a  high  dive  into  the  Cumberland  River, 
made  as  the  result  of  a  "dare"  given  him  by 
a  Miss  Durbin,  of  Tallahassee,  distantly 
related  to  Gen.  Wade  Hampton,  of  Louisi- 
ana, and  other  stories. 

While  the  good-nights  were  being  said, 
Doc'  promised  to  call  again.  Miss  Letitia 
Milbury  had  whispered  that  Doc'  was 
"exceedingly  interesting,"  and  the  dentist 
was  happy. 

The  ensuing  conversation  passed  after 
Doc'  and  the  dentist  had  boarded  the  car. 

"Well,  Doc',  she's  a  darned  fine  girl, 
ain't  she?"  asked  the  dentist. 

4  *  Remarkable — remarkable. ' ' 

"Good  looking,  don't  you  think  so?" 

"Very — very." 

"It  strikes  me,  too,  that  she  has  a  good 
even  temper." 

"I  saw  or  heard  nothing  to  induce  me  to 
believe  otherwise." 

"And  a  lot  of  common  sense.  That's 
what  so  few  of  them  have  now,  Doc',  is  com- 
mon sense." 

"I  dare  say.  The  mother  seems  to  be  a 
very  superior  person  also." 


140  DOC'    HORNE 

"Yes,  but  she's  so  big!  Gee!  but  she's 
fat." 

"You  do  not  like  large  women?" 

"Well,  I  don't  positively  dislike  any 
woman  because  she  happens  to  be  rather 
stout,  but  I  don't  believe  I  could  love  a  very 
fat  woman.  I  don't  object  to  a  plump  one, 
but  I  wouldn't  care  for  one  as  fat  as  Mrs. 
Milbury  is." 

'I'm  very  sorry  to  hear  you  say  that." 

"Sorry?     Why  so?" 

"Because,  my  dear  sir,  the  daughter,  in 
ten  or  fifteen  years  from  now,  will  be  fully 
as  large  as  the  mother  is  at  present. ' ' 

"Good  heavens!  Why — how  do  you 
know?" 

"I  argue  from  the  well-known  laws  of 
heredity.  Those  two  women  are  just  alike 
both  in  temperament  and  physical  character- 
istics. You  can  see  that  by  merely  looking 
at  them. " 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  There  is  a  certain 
family  resemblance,  to  be  sure,  but — no,  I 
can't  see  it." 

"Naturally  there  is  not  a  close  resem- 
blance, because  one  is  twenty-two  and  the 
other  is  probably  forty-five,  but  what  the 
daughter  is  now,  the  mother  was  twenty 


ONE    OBJECTION  141 

years  ago.  I  know  that,  because  I  looked 
through  the  album  while  you  and  Miss  Mil- 
bury  were  at  the  piano,  and  there  was  a  pic- 
ture of  the  mother  taken  years  ago,  and  it 
might  pass  for  a  photograph  of  the  daughter 
to-day,  only  the  mother  was  then  slimmer 
than  the  daughter  is  at  the  present  time." 

"Slimmer?"  gasped  the  dentist. 

"It's  a  fact.  I  hope  I'm  not  meddlesome 
in  saying  what  I  have,  but  it's  only  right 
that  you  should  know  it.  The  young  lady  is 
charming  and,  just  at  present,  decidedly 
attractive,  but  you  may  take  my  word  for  it, 
in  the  course  of  a  very  few  years  she  will  be 
stout — quite  stout — possibly  as  large  as  her 
mother." 

"That  settles  it,"  said  the  dentist,  in  a 
voice  which  sounded  strangely  hollow. 

"I  have  observed  hundreds  of  cases," 
added  Doc'. 

The  dentist  could  not  trust  himself  to 
speak.  He  alighted  from  the  car  and 
walked  over  to  the  hotel  in  staring  silence, 
as  if  all  hope  were  dead. 


CHAPTER    XIII 

WAS    IT    BRIDGEMAN  ? 

On  the  night  after  the  visit  to  the  Mil- 
bury  flat  the  dentist  was  in  hiding.  Doc' 
Home  was  sitting  in  front  of  the  hotel  with 
the  lush  and  a  large,  side -whiskered  man, 
lately  arrived  at  the  Alfalfa  and  known  to 
be  a  book-agent.  These  three  were  enjoy- 
ing one  of  the  first  balmy  evenings  of  the 
delayed  summer. 

Doc'  had  been  leaning  back,  dreamily 
blowing  rings  of  smoke,  and  the  book-agent 
had  been  attempting  to  recite  a  portion  of 
"Thanatopsis"  to  the  lush,  who  claimed  he 
had  never  heard  of  William  Cullen  Bryant. 

Suddenly  Doc'  straightened  up  in  his 
chair  and  looked  most  intently  at  a  passing 
man  who  carried  a  walking-stick  and  seemed 
to  be  in  a  hurry. 

"Well,  I'll  declare!"  he  exclaimed. 

"What's  the  matter,  Doc'?"  asked  the 
lush. 

Doc'  continued  to  gaze  at  the  pedestrian 
until  he  turned  the  corner. 
142 


WAS    IT   BRIDGEMAN? 


"That's  most  extraordinary,"  he  said;  "I 
could  have  sworn  that  was  Bridgeman." 

"Who's  Bridgeman?"  asked  the  book- 
agent. 

"Bridgeman  was  a  friend  of  mine.  I  say 
was  because  I  suppose  he's  dead,  but  I 
assure  you,  gentlemen,  that  the  man  who 
walked  by  here  was 
so  much  like  Bridge- 
man that  I  felt  sure 
for  a  moment  it  was 
he." 

"Don't  you  know 
whether  your  friend 
is  dead  or  alive?" 
asked  the  book-agent. 

"He  disappeared 
— that's  all  we  knew 
about  it." 

"Ran  away?" 

"Well,  the  whole  affair  was  a  mystery.  I 
always  believed  in  Bridgeman,  and  the 
sheriff  always  maintained  that  he  was  loyal 
to  us,  but  there  were  others  who  claimed 
that  he  sold  us  out. ' ' 

"What  was  it — politics?" 

"No,  indeed;  something  a  great  deal  more 
serious  than  that.  We  were  after  a  gang  of 


"WELL,  I'LL  DECLARE!" 


144  DOC'    HORNE 

counterfeiters.  Let's  see — that  was  thirty 
years  ago  this  summer.  The  way  I  came 
to  be  drawn  into  it  was  that  Jim  Martin, 
who  was  United  States  marshal,  wrote  me 
to  join  him  in  a  small  town  down  in  Ken- 
tucky. He  said  he  thought  he  could  prom- 
ise some  excitement.  I  went  down  there, 
not  knowing  what  was  up.  After  I  arrived 
I  found  that  Jim  had  located  a  gang  of 
counterfeiters  and  wanted  to  get  a  few  cool 
and  nervy  men  to  help  him  make  the 
arrests.  We  had  been  out  on  several  little 
excursions  together,  and  Jim  knew  me 
pretty  well.  He  said  that  as  soon  as  he 
found  where  the  gang  made  its  headquar- 
ters he  would  send  for  me,  because  he  knew 
I  didn't  want  to  miss  any  fun." 

Doc'  stopped  to  relight  his  cigar,  and 
then  he  resumed:  "When  I  got  down  to  this 
little  station  I  found  Jim  and  a  deputy 
named  Hayes  and  the  sheriff  of  that  county 
and  Bridgeman.  That  made  five  of  us  in 
all,  and  Jim  said  he  would  as  soon  have  the 
five  as  twenty  ordinary  men.  It  happened 
that  when  I  got  there  the  counterfeiters  had 
cleared  out.  It  was  supposed  that  they 
made  occasional  trips  to  the  cities  to  dispose 
of  their  goods.  We  waited  around  there  a 


WAS   IT   BRIDGEMAN? 


week  before  they  came  back.     You  see,  we 

were  supposed  to  be  a  hunting  party  from 

Cincinnati,    and    the    house    at    which    we 

stopped  was  at  least  five  or  six  miles  from 

the  cabin  where  the  counterfeiters  worked, 

so  that  we  felt  satisfied  they  hadn't  taken 

alarm.      Bridgeman  was  detailed  to  watch 

the  cabin  and  report 

if     the     gang    came 

back.       I     saw    him 

every  day  for  a  week 

or  more,  and  came  to 

have   a   high   regard 

for  his   courage  and 

shrewdness." 

Doc'  paused  and 
said:  "That  man  who 
passed  here  was  won- 
derfully like  Bridge- 
man. ' ' 

"Would  you  know 
him  after  such  a  long 
time?"  asked  the  book-agent. 

"I  never  forget  a  face,"  replied  Doc'. 

"Well,  what  happened  to  Bridgeman?" 
asked  the  lush.  "That's  what  I  want  to 
know." 

"That's  what  I  was  about  to  tell  you.     On 


HE  RESEMBLED  BRIDGEMAN. 


146  DOC    HORNE 

the  eighth  day,  T  think  it  was,  Bridgeman 
reported  that  all  four  members  of  the  gang 
had  returned  to  the  cabin.  Jim  determined 
to  make  a  raid  on  the  place  that  night.  The 
cabin  was  in  a  deep  ravine  that  ran  down 
toward  a  creek,  and  it  was  necessary  to  go 
through  heavy  brush  and  up  and  down  hills 
to  get  to  it,  unless  you  knew  the  winding 
path.  Bridgeman  knew  the  country,  and 
that's  why  he  had  been  put  to  do  the  spying. 

"We  set  out  about  dark  and  rode,  one  at 
a  time,  to  a  point  that  had  been  agreed 
upon,  a  clump  of  timber  at  a  cross-roads. 
Then  it  was  decided  to  send  Bridgeman 
ahead  to  make  sure  for  the  last  time  that 
the  men  were  at  the  cabin.  He  was  to  ride 
to  the  end  of  the  roads  and  tie  his  horse  and 
then  slip  through  the  brush  and  see  that 
everything  was  clear.  Then  he  was  to  come 
back  and  notify  us  and  we  were  to  follow 
him  single  file  through  the  brush,  and  sur- 
round the  cabin  before  the  inmates  were 
alarmed.  You  see,  we  didn't  want  to 
descend  on  the  cabin  in  force  if  there  was 
no  one  there  but  the  woman.  We  wanted 
to  nab  the  whole  crowd." 

"Naturally,"  assented  the  book-agent. 

"Well,  we  sent  Bridgeman  ahead  and  then 


WAS   IT   BRIDGEMAN?         147 

we  followed  slowly  after.  It  was  getting 
late  and  the  night  was  dark  and  cloudy.  I 
was  in  a  new  country,  but  Jim  and  the 
sheriff  had  been  over  the  ground  once  or 
twice  before.  I  suppose  we  were  about  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  away  from  the  cabin  when 
we  heard  two  shots.  I  said  to  Jim:  'Come 


IT    WAS    GETTING    LATE. 


on;  we're  needed,'  and  we  put  the  spurs  to 
the  horses  and  dashed  down  the  road.  I 
was  the  first  one  to  reach  the  end  of  the 
road  where  the  path  started.  Instead  of 
jumping  off  my  horse  I  simply  guided  him 
to  the  opening  in  the  brush  and  followed  the 
winding  path  as  far  as  I  could.  Then  I 


148  DOC'    HORNE 

jumped  off  and  ran  on  foot.  When  I  came 
to  the  little  clearing  where  the  cabin  was  I 
made  a  run  for  the  door,  kicked  it  open  and 
went  into  the  house.  Jim  said  afterward 
that  it  was  the  most  foolhardy  act  that  he 
had  ever  heard  of.  Well,  the  house  was 
empty.  I  went  to  the  door  and  called  to  the 
boys,  who  were  tumbling  down  through  the 
brush,  and  they  came  running  up.  There 
wasn't  a  soul  around  the  place.  We  lighted 
a  candle  and  found  some  of  the  broken  dies 
and  a  few  cooking  utensils,  but  the  counter- 
feiters had  escaped  and  taken  everything  of 
value  with  them.  Then  we  began  to  won- 
der what  had  become  of  Bridgeman.  We 
shouted  his  name  and  we  scoured  the  woods 
for  him,  but  he  couldn't  be  found  any- 
where." 

"And  he  was  never  found?"  asked  the 
book-agent. 

"Well,  there's  a  question  as  to  that.  One 
man  claimed  that  he  afterward  met  him, 
face  to  face,  in  Louisville,  and  it  was  sup- 
posed that  his  sister  received  letters  from 
him.  This  much  is  certain,  though.  He 
was  never  seen  in  that  part  of  the  country 
again,  and  most  of  the  people  believed  that 
he  had  been  killed  by  the  counterfeiters  and 


WAS    IT    BRIDGEMAN?         149 

his  body  buried  in  some  lonely  place  or  else 
sunk  in  the  creek.  His  horse  returned  home 
next  day." 

"And  you  say  some  people  didn't  believe 
he  was  dead?" 

"Some  people  claimed  that  he  sold  out  to 
the  counterfeiters  and  gave  them  warning  of 
an  attack  or  else  they  couldn't  have  moved 
out  in  such  a  hurry.  It  was  claimed  that  the 
gang  had  already  cleared  out  before  we  started 
out  that  night.  Bridgeman  fired  a  couple 
of  shots  himself  so  as  to  make  us  believe 
that  he  had  been  in  a  fight  and  then  he  rode 
off  with  the  gang,  leaving  us  to  scour 
around  the  cabin  while  he  and  the  others 
were  making  time  across  the  country. 
That,  as  I  say,  was  the  theory  and  there  are 
some  facts  to  support  it,  but  I  always 
believed  in  Bridgeman.  You  can  imagine 
my  surprise  at  seeing  this  man  walk  past 
to-night.  It  was  a  wonderful  resemblance, 
making  the  usual  allowance  for  the  changes 
of  thirty  years. ' ' 

"Why  didn't  you  speak  to  him?"  asked  the 
lush. 

"Well,  if  it  really  was  Bridgeman,  it 
simply  proves  that  he  betrayed  us  that  night 
and  escaped  with  the  counterfeiters.  Of 


150  DOC    HORNE 

course,  if  he  did  that,  I  wouldn't  shake 
hands  with  him  any  more  than  I'd  take  hold 
of  a  snake.  Bridgeman  either  turned 
traitor  or  else  he  was  killed." 

"If  he  was  killed  this  can't  be  the  man," 
suggested  the  lush. 

"Evidently  not." 

"And  if  he  wasn't  killed,  you  don't  want 
anything  to  do  with  him,"  ventured  the 
book-agent. 

"Come  to  think  of  it,  I  don't  believe  it 
was  Bridgeman,"  said  Doc'.  "Bridgeman 
was  taller  than  this  fellow. ' ' 


CHAPTER    XIV 

DOC'     IN     WAR     TIME 

On  the  way  from  the  restaurant  to  the 
hotel,  the  dentist  walked  beside  Doc'  and 
told  his  troubles. 

"I  don't  know  what  to  do,  Doc',"  he  said. 
"I  got  a  note  from  Miss  Milbury  to-day,  and 
she  wants  me  to  call  this  evening. ' ' 

"Well,  why  not  call?" 

"Because  I  don't  want  to  go  ahead  and  act 
as  if — to  tell  the  truth,  after  what  you  told 
me  the  other  night,  I  think  it  would  be 
better  to  call  the  whole  thing  off. ' ' 

"My  dear  young  friend!  You  may  call  on 
a  young  lady  with  propriety,  even  if  you 
have  no  matrimonial  intentions.  I  have 
called  on  hundreds  of  women — taken  them 
to  parties,  picnics,  theaters,  receptions  and 
so  on,  and  yet  I  have  managed  to  remain  a 
bachelor. ' ' 

"Yes,  but  you're  different.  You  can  con- 
trol yourself.  I  can't.  From  the  minute  I 
met  her,  Doc',  I  thought  there  was  more 
151 


DOC'    HORNE 


than   a    possibility    of    it    turning    out    all 
right." 

"So   it  may!      If  you  prefer  this  young 


"I   HAVE   MANAGED  TO    REMAIN   A   BACHELOR." 

lady  to  any  other  you  have  met,  go  ahead ! 
It  is  true  that  she  will  become  stouter  as 
she  grows  older,  but  the  accretion  will  be 
gradual  and  probably  you  wouldn't  notice — " 
"I  would  notice  it." 


WAR  TIME  153 

"I'm  rather  sorry  now  that  I  told  you 
what  I  did,  but  I  thought  it  was  my  duty." 

"It  broke  me  all  up,  Doc',  but  I  don't 
blame  you.  I'll  go  out  there  to-night,  but  I 
hate  to  do  it.  I'll  keep  thinking  of  what 
you  told  me. ' ' 

He  went  into  the  hotel  to  prepare  for  his 
call,  and  Doc'  joined  the  evening  group  on 
the  sidewalk.  There  had  been  changes  in 
the  company.  Both  the  actor  and  the  race- 
track man  had  left  the  Alfalfa,  one  to  join  a 
summer  company  playing  under  a  tent,  and 
the  other  to  try  his  fortunes  at  a  Cincinnati 
track.  Among  the  new-comers  were  two 
who  pleased  Doc'.  One  was  the  book-agent, 
already  mentioned,  and  the  second  was  a 
youth  employed  as  a  salesman  in  a  bicycle 
store. 

The  book-agent  was  a  person  to  command 
respect.  He  was  large,  and  he  had  whis- 
kers, and  it  is  known  that  many  a  politician 
has  gone  to  congress  and  many  a  doctor  has 
built  up  a  country  practice  with  no  other 
qualifications  than  these  two.  The  book- 
agent  wore  a  somewhat  faded  Prince  Albert 
coat,  which  supported  his  assumption  of 
learning  and  professional  dignity. 

The    stringy    side-whiskers    were    lightly 


154  DOC'    HORNE 

streaked  with  gray,  and  the  growing  bald- 
ness was  only  half -concealed  by  a  long  wisp 
of  hair  which  was  brought  up  from  the  side 
and  spread  across  the  bare  patch.  The 
book-agent  spoke  rather  slowly,  biting  off 
his  words  with  the  precision  of  a  hardened 
school  teacher.  During  the  first  hour  with 
him  one  would  be  led  to  believe  that  he  had 
spent  his  life  among  the  poets.  His  con- 
versation was  literally  stuffed  with  gems  of 
verse.  After  a  second  or  third  meeting 
with  him  it  became  apparent  that  he 
repeated  himself,  calling  up  the  same  quota- 
tion twice  or  thrice  in  the  same  week.  The 
lush,  who  was  an  observant  person  during 
his  lucid  intervals,  concluded,  after  three 
weeks,  that  the  book-agent  had  a  limited 
repertoire  of  verses  and  couplets  which  he 
had  learned  from  book  prospectuses.  This 
conclusion  was  borne  out  by  a  study  of  the 
agent's  outfit  which  he  carried  with  him. 
He  had  a  prospectus  of  the  "Sweet  Singers 
of  All  Time,"  giving  sample  pages  and  illus- 
trations, and  the  lush  found,  on  looking 
through  it  one  day,  that  all  the  stray  bits  of 
poetry  which  the  learned  book-agent  casually 
called  to  mind  were  in  this  condensed 
volume. 


WAR  TIME  155 

Any  one  who  has  been  importuned  by  a 
book-agent  will  remember  the  set  speech, 
the  eulogium  on  the  calf  binding-,  and  the 
reading  of  chance  passages  as  the  leaves  are 
turned.  By  repetition  the  book-agent  had 
memorized  the  poetry,  and  he  used  it  con- 
stantly to  embellish  his  conversation. 

Therefore,  at  a  first  meeting  the  book- 
agent  made  a  profound  impression.  A 
Johnsonian  figure  of  a  man,  who  enriched 
his  talk  with  extracts  from  the  poets  of  all 
ages — he  rather  awed  Doc'. 

Besides,  he  was  so  conscious  of  his  own 
learning.  He  smiled  indulgently  on  the 
bicycle  salesman,  even  as  he  quoted  Shakes- 
peare, and  all  his  intercourse  was  marked  by 
a  calm  and  thoughtful  politeness.  He  had 
the  habit  of  patting  and  rubbing  himself  in 
front  as  if  to  quiet  the  seething  emotions  of 
his  soul. 

The  bicycle  salesman  was  a  gaunt  young 
man  with  a  surplus  of  hair,  which  seemed  to 
be  especially  luxuriant  on  the  back  of  his 
head.  He  wore  a  cap  at  least  a  size  too 
small,  so  that  the  effect  of  the  hair-burst  j  ust 
below  the  cap  was  something  fantastic  and 
yet  greatly  to  be  desired  by  those  who  ride 
the  wheel. 


156  DOC'    HORNE 

His  head  appeared  to  be  peculiarly 
elongated  because  of  the  mat  of  hair  behind. 

Doc'  soon  perceived  that  the  bicycle 
youth  was  an  excellent  listener  of  responsive 
temperament,  and  he  rather  liked  him. 

Lush  and  the  freckled  boy  were  in  a  dis- 
pute as  Doc'  seated  himself.  It  was  a 
pleasant  summer  evening.  The  book-agent 
had  his  vest  widely  unbuttoned  and  was 
gazing  with  surprise  and  reproach  at  the  two 
disputants. 

Doc'  sat  and  listened  for  several  moments 
before  he  could  determine  the  subject  under 
debate.  This  is  what  it  proved  to  be : 

Which  was  the  greater  general,  Grant  or 
Lee? 

No  one  can  ever  tell  how  these  hotel  con- 
troversies begin,  and  no  one  ever  saw  one  of 
them  arrive  at  any  conclusion. 

The  lush  was  defending  the  militarj^ 
reputation  of  Grant.  Not  that  he  knew 
very  much  about  Grant  or  had  any  decided 
opinion  as  to  his  military  genius,  but 
because  the  freckled  boy  had  said  some- 
thing in  favor  of  Lee. 

"If  Lee  had  only  had  as  many  soldiers  as 
Grant,  had  there  wouldn't  have  been  a  thing 
to  it,"  said  the  freckled  boy.  "He'd  'a' 


WAR  TIME  157 

give  Grant  a  horrible  finish.  Don't  tell  me 
no  different." 

"What  was  your  regiment?"  asked  the 
lush. 

"Well,  I  come  about  as  near  fightin'  as 
you  did. ' ' 

"I'll  tell  you  just  how  much  you  know 
about  Lee.  You  saw  his  picture  on  a  cigar 
box  somewhere.  What's  his  first  name?" 

"Robert  E.  Lee." 

"That's  right!  That's  the  name  of  the 
cigar — the  Robert  E.  Lee  cigar.  I  knew 
that's  where  you  got  the  name." 

"I  s'pose  I  don't  know  nothin'  about  the 
siege  of  Richmond?" 

"Who  won  out  there?" 

"Why  shouldn't  he  win  out  when  he  had 
four  times  as  many  soldiers?" 

"Who's  that— Lee?" 

"No,  it  wasn't  Lee." 

"Well,  who  was  it  came  out  ahead?" 

"Well,  I  s'pose  every  one  knows  that 
Grant  finally  captured  Richmond. ' ' 

"That  doesn't  prove  anything,  though, 
does  it?  I  guess  that  was  an  accident. 
Things  just  happened  to  come  his  way.  He 
didn't  know  a  thing. " 

"But  he  had  the  soldiers." 


158  DOC'    HORNE 

"Well,  that's  where  he  was  smooth.  Why 
didn't  Lee  get  some  soldiers  and  have  them 
there?" 

"He  couldn't  get  them." 

"Well,  I  don't  think  much  of  a  general 
who  can't  get  soldiers  when  he  needs  them. 
That's  part  of  the  business — having  your 
men  there. ' ' 

"What  do  the  books  say?" 

"What  books?" 

"W'y,  the  histories.  They  say  it  was 
great  the  way  Lee  stood  off  Grant.  It  was 
a  toss-up  there  for  a  while,  and  if  anything 
Lee  had  a  shade  the  best  of  it." 

"But  Lee  finally  surrendered." 

"Yes — I  s'pose  so." 

"And  that  proves  that  Grant  was  a  poor 
general,  does  it?" 

"Here!  would  you  expect  a  welter-weight 
to  lick  a  man  that  weighed  one-seventy?" 

"I'm  talking  about  generals — not  prize- 
fighters." 

"I'll  leave  it  to  Doc',"  said  the  freckled 
boy. 

"Really,  gentlemen,  I  don't  care  to 
express  a  preference,"  said  Doc',  with  a 
bland  smile.  "Each  was  a  military  genius 
in  his  way.  I  met  both  of  them — General 


WAR  TIME  159 

Lee  before  the  war  and  General  Grant  dur- 
ing the  campaign  of  1868.  I  admire  them, 
not  only  as  soldiers,  but  as  American  gentle- 
men, and  feel  that  it  would  hardly  be  proper 
to  enter  into  any  dispute  as  to  their  relative 
merits. ' ' 

The  book-agent  sighed  and  repeated, 
softly : 

"The  union  of  lakes,  the  union  of  lands, 
The  union  of  states  none  can  sever ; 
The  union  of  hearts,  the  union  of  hands, 
And  the  flag  of  our  union  forever!" 

"Just  the  same,  Lee  was  a  great  general," 
said  the  freckled  boy. 

"Did  you  enter  the  service  when  grim- 
visaged  war  reared  its  awful  front?"  asked 
the  book-agent,  looking  at  Doc'. 

' '  Not  as  a  soldier — no.  That  is,  not  as  an 
ordinary  soldier.  Was  I  in  the  service? 
Yes,  and  no.  I  was  often  at  the  front,  and 
I  had  a  certain  connection  with  the  war 
department,  but  I  was  not  a  soldier  in  the 
common  acceptance  of  the  term.  I  held  a 
position  of  a  quasi-military  character,  you 
might  say.  My  exact  standing  with  the 
secretary  of  war  and  the  importance  of  my 
errands  on  several  occasions  were  known  to 
but  few  people.  I  did  not  figure  as  a  repre- 


160  DOC'    HORNE 

sentative  of  the  government,  and  I  doubt  if 
you  will  find  my  name  mentioned  anywhere 
in  the  records.  It  may  be  in  there,  but  I 
doubt  it.  Stanton  was  always  very  careful 
about  those  things." 

"Stanton?"  asked  the  bicycle  youth. 

"Edwin  M.  Stanton — secretary  of  war," 
explained  the  book-agent. 

"A  certain  official  said  to  me  once: 
4  Home,  I  want  you  to  go  and  arrange  this 
matter  for  me,  and  I  don't  want  any  one  to 
ever  know  anything  about  it,  outside  of  we 
three.'  The  third  person  to  whom  he 
referred  was  a  general — a  western  man." 

"Well,  did  you  arrange  it?"  asked  the 
bicycle  salesman. 

"If  I  were  at  liberty  to  tell  you  the  name 
of  the  general,  you'd  know  how  well  I 
arranged  it.  My  visit  to  the  general  marked 
the  turning-point  of  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant campaigns  of  the  war.  The  department 
wanted  to  give  this  general  some  advice 
which  was  not  to  be  a  matter  of  record.  If 
you've  ever  had  anything  to  do  with  the 
government  service,  you  know  quite  well 
that  some  messages  are  too  important  and 
confidential  to  be  submitted  to  writing. 
After  I  had  concluded  my  business,  this 


WAR  TIME  161 

general — and  you'd  know  his  name  in  a 
minute  if  I  mentioned  it — this  general  said 
tome:  'Home,  what's  your  private  opinion 
of  this  whole  business?'  He  wanted  it, 
and  I  gave  it  to  him.  I  agreed  with  Stanton 
on  the  main  proposition,  but  I  had  my  own 
opinion  as  to  how  the  thing  ought  to  be  put 
into  effect.  We  sat  up  for  two  or  three 
hours  talking  it  over,  and  I  could  see  that  he 
was  impressed  by  my  suggestions,  although 
he  didn't  say  very  much.  Well,  sir,  I 
started  back  to  Washington,  under  the  cover 
of  darkness,  but  from  that  day  the  details  of 
the  campaign  were  along  the  lines  which  I 
had  laid  down  in  our  private  conference.  I 
don't  say  it  boastingly,  gentlemen,  but 
merely  to  prove  what  I  have  said  time  and 
again,  that  very  often  a  general  is  credited 
with  some  coup,  the  inspiration  for  which  is 
provided  by  a  man  behind  the  scenes — some 
one  who  never  figures  in  history." 

"What  excuse  could  you  give  for  running 
around  the  country  and  following  up  the 
armies?"  asked  the  bicycle  salesman. 

"I  was  ostensibly  a  commercial  traveler 
trying  to  sell  goods  to  sutlers  and  other 
dealers  near  the  large  camps.  That  gave 
me  a  good  excuse  for  visiting  the  front  at 


162  DOC'    HORNE 

any  time.  Nearly  all  the  people  who  met 
me  supposed  I  was  a  traveling  salesman  and 
nothing  more.  If  you  were  to  meet  one  of 
the  subordinate  officers  whom  I  knew  about 
that  time  and  ask  him,  'Was  Cal  Home  con- 
nected with  the  war  department?'  he'd  say, 
'No;  Home  was  the  fellow  who  used  to 
come  around  with  supplies  for  the  sutlers.' 
I  wasn't  telling  my  business  to  every  Tom, 
Dick  and  Harry." 


CHAPTER    XV 


WOMAN,        BY    THE    FRECKLED    BOY 

Miss  Letitia  Milbury  and  her  mother  went 
into  the  country  for  a  month,  and  the  den- 
tist said  that  all  was 
for  the  best.  He  was 
sorry  that  he  had  met 
Miss  Milbury  and 
more  sorry  still  that 
he  had  taken  Doc' 
Home  to  call  on  her. 
More  than  once  he 
wondered  if  it  could 
be  true  that  Miss  Mil- 
bury  would  be  as 
large  as  her  mother. 
It  seemed  to  him 
that  he  could  recall 
having  met  many 
slim  women  each  of 
whom  had  a  stout 
mother.  He  won- 
dered if  Mr.  Milbury 
had  been  a  heavy  AT  THE  CONCERT  GARDEN. 
163 


164  DOC'    HORNE 

man.  And  more  than  once  he  wondered  if 
Doc's  confident  theory  as  to  hereditary  stout- 
ness could  be  accepted.  This  was  a  mourn- 
ful period  for  the  dentist  Since  Miss  Mil- 
bury  was  not  for  him,  he  was  glad  that  she 
had  gone  from  the  city. 

The  first  sign  of  his  recovery  came  at 
about  the  time  of  his  meeting  with  Miss 
Laura  Tupham  at  a  concert  garden  on  the 
north  side. 

"I  went  out  to  a  German  garden  last  night 
with  a  friend  of  mine,  in  the  leather  busi- 
ness, and  we  ran  into  a  lot  of  his  friends, ' ' 
he  reported  to  Doc'.  "I  met  one  girl  that 
was  fine.  Her  name  is  Tupham — Laura 
Tupham." 

"My  mother  had  some  distant  relatives  by 
the  name  of  Tupham,"  said  Doc'.  "One  of 
the  Tuphams  is  said  to  have  given  Cornelius 
Vanderbilt  his  start  in  life." 

"I  don't  know  where  this  girl  comes  from, 
but  she's  all  right.  She's  going  to  be  out 
at  the  garden  again  next  week,  and  I've 
promised  to  be  there.  By  the  way,  her 
mother  was  with  her.  She's  a  mighty  well- 
preserved  woman,  Doc'.  You  wouldn't  take 
her  to  be  more  than  ten  years  older  than 
this  girl. ' ' 


"  WOMAN  "  165 

Doc'  turned  and  looked  at  him,  rather 
puzzled. 

''I'm  afraid  you  are  attaching  too  much 
importance  to  our  conversation  the  other 
evening,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  no,  I  understand,"  with  a  forced 
smile.  "It  isn't  true  in  all  cases.  But  I 
just  thought  I'd  tell  you." 

The  lush  came  out  and  joined  them,  so 
they  were  silent. 

"Such  a  fine  piece  of  scandal,"  said  the 
lush.  "You  wouldn't  guess  it  in  a  thousand 
years.  You  know  the  book-agent?  Well, 
he's  a  divorced  man." 

"Divorced!  Is  that  so?"  asked  the  den- 
tist. It  seemed  to  him  at  that  moment  that 
the  whole  world  was  in  a  conspiracy  to  block 
his  purpose  and  frighten  him  away  from 
matrimony. 

"Yes,  I  believe  she  got  her  papers  since 
he  came  here  to  live.  He's  been  worried  a 
good  deal  for  fear  it  would  get  into  the 
papers,  but  it  seems  to  be  all  right." 

"Did  he  tell  you  about  it?"  asked  Doc'. 

"Yes;  you  know,  he's  inclined  to  be  pious, 
and  he  cornered  me  yesterday  and  gave  me 
a  little  argument  on  the  liquor  proposition. 
I  told  him  I  had  to  drink  now  and  then  to 


166  DOC'    HORNE 

drown  my  sorrows,  and  then  he  tried  to 
convince  me  that  he  had  had  more  trouble 
than  I  ever  dreamed  of,  and  still  got 
through  it  without  taking  a  drink." 

"Who's  that?"  demanded  the  freckled 
boy,  who  had  come  up  unobserved,  as 
usual. 

Doc'  frowned  in  annoyance. 

"The  book-agent,"  replied  the  lush. 
"After  he  started  in  he  gave  me  the  whole 
story.  It  seems  that,  he  married  her  two 
years  ago,  for  her  money.  He  didn't  say 
so,  but  he  showed  me  her  picture,  and  then 
I  knew.  Our  friend  with  the  whiskers  was 
number  three.  He  met  her  at  a  meeting  of 
the  Society  for  the  Umptification  of  Some- 
thing or-other  and  thought  it  was  a  good 
thing,  so  he  grabbed  it.  He  went  out  to 
her  house  to  live,  and  from  the  hard-luck 
story  he  told  me,  why,  his  life  must  have 
been  one  long  picnic.  She's  a  vegetarian, 
and  wouldn't  let  him  eat  meat.  Then  she 
made  him  wear  a  kind  of  health  underwear 
that  gave  him  the  hives.  He  says  that  she 
made  him  sit  up  all  one  night  and  rub  her 
back  with  liniment,  and  no  matter  where  he 
rubbed  she'd  say  it  wasn't  the  right  place. 
You  ought  to  have  heard  him.  Why,  he 


«  WOMAN  "  167 

nearly  cried  when  he  told  me  about  it.  I 
figured  that  she  married  him  so  as  to  have 
something-  to  experiment  on.  She  was 
nearly  everything — a  spiritualist,  a  vege- 
tarian, a  suffragist,  a  faith  cure,  a  health 
underwear,  theosophist, " 

"What's  that?"  asked  the  freckled  boy. 

"She  thinks  this  isn't  her  first  time  on 
earth,"  said  the  lush. 

"Rats!" 

"From  what  he  told  me,  I'd  just  as  soon 
be  married  to  a  Bengal  tiger.  Darned  if  I 
didn't  feel  sorry  for  him.  He  said  that  at 
the  time  he  left  her  place  he  got  some  of  her 
handkerchiefs  into  his  grip  by  mistake,  and 
she  had  him  arrested  for  stealing.  What  do 
you  think  of  that?" 

"A  man's  a  chump  for  gettin'  married," 
said  the  freckled  boy,  gravely. 

"When  she  applied  for  her  divorce  she 
charged  him  with  cruelty,  desertion,  harsh 
and  abusive  language,  and  failure  to  pro- 
vide. He  was  telling  me  that  he  was  abso- 
lutely innocent,  and  that  he  didn't  leave  her 
house  until  she  made  it  so  hot  for  him  that 
he  couldn't  stand  it  another  day." 

"Is  she  a  good-looker?"  asked  the  freckled 
boy. 


1 68  DOC    HORNE 

"She's  a  sight.  I'd  like  to  know  why  in 
the  world  he  ever  married  her." 

"I  s'pose  the  book  graft  was  slow,"  said 
the  freckled  boy.  "She's  got  some  coin, 
ain't  she?" 

"She's  got  money  now  that  she  had  before 
the  war.  He  says  that  he  nearly  starved  to 
death  while  he  was  living  with  her.  Vege- 
tarian, you  know.  Oatmeal  and  prunes  for 
breakfast,  brown  bread  and  potatoes  for 
dinner.  You  ought  to  get  him  to  tell  you 
about  it. ' ' 

"Do  you  know  what  I'd  do  if  I  had  that 
kind  of  a  wife?"  asked  the  freckled  boy.  "I 
don't  believe  in  bein'  rough  with  a  lady  as 
long  as  she  is  one,  but  if  she'd  ever  try  any 
o'  that  funny  work  with  me,  I'd  call  her 
down  if  I  had  to  swing  on  her. ' ' 

"Oh,  well,  1  don't  know,"  remarked  the 
lush.  "It  isn't  a  very  proper  thing  to  do — 
to  slug  a  perfect  lady.  I'd  simply  go  ahead 
and  run  the  house  in  my  own  way  and  pay 
no  attention  to  anything  she  said.  You  see, 
after  a  woman  talks  herself  black  in  the 
face  without  getting  an  argument,  she  has  to 
stop." 

"It's  too  bad  that  our  friend  did  not  con- 
fer with  you  gentlemen  before  he  left  his 


«  WOMAN  "  169 

wife,"  said  Doc',  with  a  half-restrained 
smile.  "You  know  how  to  manage  women 
and  could  have  given  him  some  valuable 
advice. " 

"Well,  I've  never  been  married,  but  I've 
always  known  one  thing,"  said  the  dentist. 
"A  man  has  got  to  assert  his  independence 
in  his  own  house.  If  he  lets  his  wife  think 
she  can  order  him  around  and  treat  him 
like  a  schoolboy,  he  might  as  well  give  up  all 
hope  of  having  any  liberty  of  his  own.  I 
don't  say  that  a  man  ought  to  be  harsh 
with  a  woman,  but  he  ought  to  give  her  to 
understand  that  he  can  come  and  go  once 
in  a  while  without  asking  her  permission. ' ' 

"That's  right,"  said  the  lush.  "If  this 
book-agent  friend  of  ours  had  gone  out  and 
got  drunk  the  night  he  married  the  old  girl, 
and  then  come  home  and  chased  her  around 
the  house  with  a  hatchet,  she'd  have  had 
some  respect  for  him.  I  knew  a  man  once 
who  chased  his  wife  with  a  hatchet  at  least 
once  a  month.  He  loved  her  all  right,  and 
wouldn't  have  harmed  her  for  anything  in 
the  world,  but  he  claimed  that  he  had  to 
make  this  hatchet  demonstration  at  least 
once  a  month  in  order  to  maintain  his  rights. 
After  every  outbreak  she'd  be  pleasant  and 


170  DOC    HORNE 

attentive  for  several  weeks.  Then  her 
respect  for  his  rights  would  begin  to  weaken, 
and  he  would  have  to  get  out  his  hatchet 
again." 

In  concluding  he  winked  at  the  dentist. 

"Seriously  speaking,  I  don't  believe  a 
woman  has  much  regard  for  a  man  who 
allows  himself  to  be  tied  to  her  apron 
strings, ' '  said  the  dentist. 

**W'y,  of  course  not!"  exclaimed  the 
freckled  boy,  with  an  indifferent  gesture,  to 
show  that  he  was  an  expert.  "I'll  win  out 
a  girl  in  ten  minutes  where  one  o'  them 
easy,  polite  guys  wouldn't  make  a  showin' 
in  an  hour.  You've  got  to  be  a  little  rough 
with  'em  if  you  want  to  get  along.  Chop 
all  this  business  of  writin*  notes  an1  prom- 
isin'  to  be  good.  Promise  nothin'!  You 
head  the  combination  yourself,  understand? 
If  you  don't,  you'll  be  runnin'  errands  for 
her,  an'  some  other  geezer  won't  do  a  thing 
but  pull  the  handle  an'  let  you  through  the 
chute.  That's  right.  The  minute  one  of 
'em  thinks  she's  got  you  dead,  that  spoils 
her.  You've  got  to  ring  'er  up  every 
twenty  minutes  an'  square  yourself.  But 
when  you  keep  'er  guessin',  then  she  does 
the  ringin'  up. 


"WOMAN"  171 

"I've  got  a  brother  that  don't  know  a 
thing  about  them  fairies.  He  won't  stand 
for  none  o'  this  lady-friend  business.  When 
one  of  'em  gives  him  the  saucy  eye  an'  be- 
gins to  pick  things  off  o'  his  coat,  he  up  and 
barks  at  her  an'  scares  her  to  death. 

"There's  none  of  'em  can  cut  saucy  capers 
with  that  boy.  He  has  his  way  or  the  lights 
go  out — that's  all  there  is  to  it.  When  he. 
cops  out  a  shirt-waist  and  puts  it  on  a  trolley 
car  he  says:  'Now  you're  with  me,  an'  not 
me  with  you.  Start  nothin',  and  if  any 
argument  comes  up,  you  out  of  the  way!' 
That's  right,  too;  make  'em  know  their 
place. 

"An'  don't  let  'em  kid  you.  If  one  of  .'em 
gets  to  thinkin'  she's  a  kidder,  that  swells 
her  all  out  o'  shape,  an'  it  takes  many  a  jolt 
to  make  her  behave.  I  was  up  at  a  dance 
one  night  an'  I  met  a  tall  party  that  thought 
she  was  old  stringer  No.  i.  She  had  a  lot 
o'  moldy  ones  left  over  from  last  year's  ten- 
twent'-and-thirt',  an'  she  kept  shootin'  'em 
in  there  an'  gettin'  puffed  up  till  her  cloze 
didn't  fit  her.  If  there's  anything  makes 
me  sore  it's  to  have  one  o'  them  laundry 
queens  try  to  sew  buttons  on  me.  Purty 
soon  I  says:  'Gertie,  you're  lively  company 


172  DOC'    HORNE 

an'  a  very  neat  josher,  but  you  don't  last,  so 
I  think  I'll  have  to  put  a  tag  on  you.  I 
don't  want  you  to  get  mad  at  nothin'  I  say 
to  you,  becuz  I  can  see  that  you  belong  with 
the  best,  an'  besides  we're  all  good  fellows 
here  together.  At  the  same  time,  Gertie,  I 
must  say  that  before  you  try  to  pump  the 
hot  air  you  ought  to  oil  up.  Now,  I'll  tell 
you  what  I'm  goin'  to  do  with  you.  You're 
gettin'  too  swift  an'  reckless  an'  you  may 
run  somethin'  down,  so  I'm  goin'  to  send 
you  out  to  a  blacksmith  shop  an'  have  a  fen- 
der put  on  you. '  She  come  back  with  the 
best  she  had,  an'  when  she  got  through,  I 
says:  'If  you've  finished,  Gertie,  you  might 
as  well  blow.  There  ain't  nothin'  doin'  for 
you  over  in  this  corner.  An'  never  come  to 
one  o'  these  dances  till  you  get  a  dress  that 
fits  you.  You're  a  sight!' 

"Well,  say,  she  was  wild.  This  was  a 
new  game  for  her.  She'd  had  a  lot  o'  them 
cigarette  children  over  in  the  corner,  makin' 
goo-goo  eyes  at  'em  an'  talkin'  'em  to  a 
standstill,  an'  just  about  the  time  when  she 
thought  she  was  good  enough  to  travel  in 
any  class  she  bumped  into  me  an'  got  a 
crimp  that'll  last  her  for  many's  the  day. 

"But  here's  what  I  started  out  to  tell  you: 


"  WOMAN  "  173 

After  I'd  roasted  her  do  you  think  she  quit 
me  an'  went  back  to  little  Horace  with  the 
hair  and  Ernest  with  the  red  necktie?  I 
should  sa-a-y  not !  She  followed  me  across 
the  floor,  an'  just  as  I  was  moppin'  in  a 
scuttle  o'  beer  about  a  foot  high  I  feel  some- 
body give  me  a  punch  in  the  back,  an'  when 
I  turns  around  here's  the  tall  party.  She 
says,  'I  think  you're  just  as  mean  as  you  can 
be!' oh,  fine  an'  sassy!  'Don't  follow  me,'  I 
says.  'I'm  tired  o'  lookin'  at  you.  I've  got 
a  swell  dame  here  from  the  south  side,  an* 
if  she  ever  sees  me  talkin'  to  you  I  won't  get 
another  piece  o'  jewelry  in  six  months. 
Now  duck!  Go  back  to  them  chewin'-gum 
Willies.  You  can  make  good  with  them, 
but  you  don't  stand  one-two-seventeen  with 
me.  I  don't  like  your  shape,  for  one  thing. 
You're  gettin'  round-shouldered.  What  you 
been  doin'  all  your  life  —  leanin'  over  a 
fence?' 

"Oh,  say,  I  toasted  her  shameful,  but 
that's  what  she  needed.  An'  the  rougher  I 
shot  it  into  her  the  closer  she  stuck  to  me. 
She  was  mad,  all  right,  but  she  didn't  want 
to  quit.  I'd  see  her  standin'  over  talkin'  to 
some  guy,  an'  the  minute  she'd  see  me, 
that'd  rattle  her.  Then  I'd  give  her  the 


DOC    HORNE 


quiet  laugh  an'  over  she'd  come.  She'd 
say:  'I  never  met  any  gentleman  before 
that  said  such  awful  things  to  me  as  you  said 
right  here  to-night.'  Til  tell  you,  Gert,'  I 
says,  takin'  hold  of  her  mitt,  'that's  becuz 
you  never  met  a  true 
friend  before. '  Then 
she  wouldn't  know 
what  to  think.  I  had 
her  in  the  air,  sure 
enough.  Just  about 
the  time  when  she'd 
think  I  was  weakenin' 
an'  was  goin'  to  take 
it  all  back  an'  tell  her 
she  was  a  nice  girl, 
I'd  say:  'Well,  run 
along  now.  I've  got 
to  go  an'  meet  a 
friend.'  Then  she'd 
be  sore  again — oh, 
crazy!  Never  would 
speak  to  the  old 
rowdy  thing  again — never!  But  just  the 
same  I  knew  I  couldn't  lose  her. 

4 'On  the  square,  I  got  ashamed  o'  myself 
after  while.  The  girl  was  all  right,  mind 
you,  only  she  was  just  new — that's  all. 


"A    SHIRT-WAIST.' 


"  WOMAN  "  175 

Before  I  got  through  with  her,  though,  I 
made  a  good  fellow  out  of  her.  I  made  her 
quit.  That's  what  I  done.  I  had  her 
clinchin'  an'  beggin'  me  to  stop,  and  she 
was  the  tamest  thing  you  ever  see.  She 
didn't  have  one  funny  crack  left.  I  cer- 
tainly put  her  out  o'  the  stringin'  business. 
Then  I  says  to  her:  'You  ain't  mad,  are 
you,  Gert?'  She  was  so  leary  by  that  time 
she  didn't  know  what  to  say.  With  that  I 
jollied  her  a  little  an'  says  to  her:  'As 
soon  as  you've  been  around  some  more 
you'll  know  how  to  take  a  joke.'  Then 
I  danced  with  her  a  couple  o'  times  an' 
bought  her  somethin'  to  eat,  an',  say,  she 
couldn't  see  nobody  else.  Now,  there's 
a  girl  I  may  meet  a  thousand  times,  an' 
it's  like  gettin'  money  from  home  that 
she  won't  never  try  to  kid  me  again.  I 
should  say  not.  You've  got  to  have  'em  a 
little  afraid  of  you — there  ain't  no  use 
talkin'.  If  you  want  'em  to  behave  you've 
got  to  be  a  little  rough  now  an'  then." 

"Gentlemen,  gentlemen,  gentlemen!"  said 
Doc',  nodding  his  head  slowly.  "Are  we 
at  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century  or  do 
we  still  live  in  caves  and  holes  in  the 
ground?  Have  we  become  civilized  or  do 


176  DOC'    HORNE 

we  still  rule  by  fear?  Is  it  possible  that  any 
one  in  the  semblance  of  a  human  being  still 
holds  to  the  monstrous  belief  that  the 
creature  put  upon  earth  to  be  man's  com- 
panion and  helpmate  is  deserving  only  of 
his  brutal  persecutions?  I  wouldn't  have 
believed  it,  but  I  have  sat  here  and  listened 
— listened  with  shame,  I  must  confess.  I 
thought  we  had  got  further  away  from 
savagery.  The  aborigines  held  the  very 
theory  which  is  advocated  so  eloquently  by 
my  young  friend  here.  I  only  hope  that  he 
will  live  to  blush  for  his  words.  Good 
night,  gentlemen!" 

"What's  the  matter  with  him?"  asked  the 
freckled  boy,  as  Doc'  entered  the  hotel. 
"Did  somebody  say  somethin'?  He  seems 
to  be  sore." 


CHAPTER.  XVI 


THE    LETTER    FROM    MISS    MILBURY 

On  the  evening  appointed,  the  dentist 
went  to  the  German  garden  on  the  north 
side  to  meet  his  friend  in  the  leather  busi- 
ness, who  had  prom- 
ised to  be  there  with 
Miss  Laura  Tupham 
and  others.  This 
time  Miss  Tupham 
was  not  accompanied 
by  her  mother,  and 
she  seemed  to  enjoy 
her  liberty,  for  she 
talked  rapidly  and 
almost  incessantly, 
and  the  dentist  sus- 
pected that  she  want- 
ed to  flirt  with  him. 
She  showed  her  play-  . 

*        *         "IN  THE  LEATHER  BUSINESS. 

ful  anger  at  the  friend 

in  the  leather  business  by  urging  the  dentist 

to  move  around  and  sit  beside  her,  and  she 

even  put  her  arm  within  his  and  said,  "There 

177 


178  DOC'    HORNE 

now!"  this  performance  iin pressing  the  den- 
tist as  being  rather  bold,  although  not  entirely 
displeasing.  He  reflected  that  Miss  Milbury 
had  never  done  anything  of  the  kind, 
although  he  had  been  with  her  at  least  six 
times,  and  this  was  the  second  time  he  had 
met  Miss  Tupham.  He  wondered  if  she 
ever  seized  hold  of  other  men,  after  meeting 
them  once  or  twice,  and  the  more  he  won- 
dered, the  stronger  became  the  conviction 
that  she  was  not  to  be  Miss  Milbury's  suc- 
cessor in  his  affections. 

If  he  had  any  remaining  doubt,  it  van- 
ished when  he  saw  the  waiter  put  a  glass  of 
beer  in  front  of  her.  The  dentist  had 
become  accustomed  to  seeing  both  men  and 
women  drink  the  forbidden  cups,  but  he 
had  never  overcome  the  belief  that  it  was 
sinful  for  them  to  do  so.  He  drank  some- 
times, but  always  with  a  shame  which  he 
could  not  fully  conceal.  He  had  been  reared 
in  a  community  in  Indiana  which  would  have 
closed  all  doors  against  any  woman  who 
dared  to  drink  beer  in  a  place  of  public 
entertainment.  The  other  women  of  the 
town  would  have  persecuted  her  with  end- 
less denunciation.  The  dentist  often  told 
himself  that  he  had  become  "liberal"  and 


THE    LETTER  179 

no  longer  judged  people  by  the  narrow 
code  of  a  fanatical  village,  and  yet  he  was 
shocked  and  made  sorry  when  he  saw  that 
Miss  Tupham  was  to  drink  a  glass  of  beer. 
The  question  at  once  came  to  him,  "What 
would  my  relatives  say  of  me  and  think  of 
me  if  I  married  a  woman  who  drank 
beer?" 

To  be  sure,  he  drank  with  her  and  even 
clinked  glasses  and  laughed  with  the  others, 
but  he  knew  that  this  would  be  the  end  of  it, 
so  far  as  Miss  Laura  Tupham  was  con- 
cerned. 

The  dentist  was  in  the  city,  but  not  of  it. 
The  Indiana  part  of  him  insisted  that  any 
woman  who  drank  a  glass  of  beer  in  a  pub- 
lic garden  thereby  degraded  herself.  He 
doubted  if  Miss  Milbury  would  even  visit 
such  a  place. 

He  was  quite  unhappy  as  he  rode  back  to 
the  hotel  in  the  open  car  with  his  hat  off,  the 
dusty  breezes  cooling  his  head.  He  found 
Doc'  Home,  the  married  man,  the  lush,  and 
the  book-agent  sitting  in  a  semicircle  near 
the  Alfalfa  doorway. 

The  high  buildings  to  the  west  intercepted 
the  breeze  and  the  street  was  packed  with 
a  moist  and  stifling  heat.  Doc'  had  removed 


i8o  DOC'    HORNE 

his  collar  and  tucked  a  handkerchief  inside 
his  neckband. 

The  book-agent's  side- whiskers  were 
hanging  limp  and  becalmed.  He  had 
removed  both  coat  and  vest.  Occasionally 
he  shifted  the  pale  flowered  suspenders  and 
patted  himself  and  murmured,  "Oh, 
dear!" 

The  five  sat  for  a  while  and  weakly  cursed 
the  temperature. 

"Ah-h-h-h-h-h!"  exclaimed  the  dentist  in 
admiration,  for  a  long  fork  of  lightning  had 
suddenly  played  across  the  wall  of  black 
clouds  to  the  north.  While  the  members  of 
.the  colony  were  still  looking,  a  faint  rumble 
of  thunder  was  heard,  and  a  cooler  puff  of 
air  revived  them. 

"Feel  that?"  asked  the  dentist.  "Were 
going  to  have  rain. " 

"I  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  we  had  some 
lightning,  too,"  said  Doc'  Home,  squint- 
ing at  the  clouds. 

"I  hope  not,"  said  the  dentist.  "I'm 
afraid  of  lightning. ' ' 

"There  isn't  much  danger  if  you  keep 
away  from  the  windows, ' '  said  the  lush.  '  *  If 
a  man  sits  in  the  window  he's  almost  sure 
to  be  struck  by  lightning.  Best  way's  to 


THE    LETTER  181 

get  in  feathers — non-conductor.  Go  get  in 
a  feather  bed  and  you're  safe." 

''That's  good  advice,"  said  the  dentist. 
"I  don't  suppose  they've  had  a  feather  bed 
in  the  Alfalfa  for  ten  years." 

"Speak  to  the  old  man  and  he'll  send  out 
and  get  a  feather  bed  for  you,"  said  the 
lush.  "Anything  we  haven't  got  we  can 
send  out  and  get." 

The  book-agent,  who  had  been  watching 
the  flashes  in  the  north,  broke  the  silence 
with  a  quotation: 

"The  sky  is  changed,  and  such  a  change!     O  night 
And  storm  and  darkness !     Ye  are  wondrous  strong ; 
Yet  lovely  in  your  strength,  as  is  the  light 
Of  a  dark  eye  in  woman !     Far  along, 
From  peak  to  peak,  the  rattling  crags  among, 
Leaps  the  live  thunder." 

"That's  great,"  said  the  dentist,  in  a 
whisper,  after  the  book-agent  had  finished. 
"Who  wrote  it?" 

"Byron." 

"He's  the  fellow  you  were  telling  me 
about  the  other  night." 

"No;  that  was  Bryant — William  Cullen 
Bryant. ' ' 

"Oh,  I  see.     There  are  two  of  them." 


182 


DOC'    HORNE 


"There  are  five  or  six  poets  altogether," 
said  the  lush. 

"I  never  was  particularly  afraid  of  light- 
ning," said  the  book-agent,  addressing  Doc' 
Home,  so  as  to  give  a  turn  to  the  conversa- 
tion. 

"I  never  worry  about  it  at  all,"  said  Doc'. 
"I  suppose  that  when 
it  comes  my  time  to 
go,  they'll  get  me,  no 
matter  where  I  am. 
The  possibility  of 
being  struck  by  light- 
ning never  occurs  to 
me,  although,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  I 
ought  to  be  appre- 
hensive, I  suppose, 
considering  that  I  had 
such  a  narrow  escape 
once.  I  was  visiting 
some  of  my  relatives 
down  in  Pennsylvania  and  had  been  out  on  a 
long  walk.  A  storm  came  up  very  suddenly 
when  I  was  at  least  a  mile  from  the  house. 
I  took  refuge  under  a  tall  tree,  and  I  had 
barely  done  so  when  the  tree  was  struck  by 
lightning.  The  lightning  ran  down  the 


THE   BOOK-AGENT. 


THE    LETTER  183 

trunk  and  tore  up  the  ground  terribly.  My 
clothes  were  ripped  down  one  side  and  the 
shoe  on  that  side — it  was  the  left  shoe,  I 
think — was  scorched  just  as  if  it  had  been 
put  into  the  fire.  I  remember  that  the  nails 
in  the  heel  were  partly  melted.  Beyond 
giving  me  a  certain  numbness  for  a  while, 
the  stroke  had  no  effect  on  me.  I  suppose 
that's  because " 

Just  then  the  cooling  breeze  came  with 
new  strength  and  big  raindrops  began  to 
splash  on  the  hot  stones. 

The  members  of  the  colony  picked  up 
their  chairs  and  ran  into  the  hotel.  When 
the  dentist  went  to  get  his  key  he  found  a 
letter  in  the  box  and  recognized  the  hand- 
writing. The  letter  was  from  Miss  Milbury ! 

He  went  to  his  room  and  stood  under  the 
gas  jet  to  read  what  she  had  written.  Quick 
flashes  of  lightning  illumined  the  blank 
walls  beyond  his  two  windows.  Peal  after 
peal  of  crashing  thunder  struck  the  build- 
ing. The  dentist  had  a  fierce  satisfaction  in 
listening  to  the  storm  as  he  read  the  letter. 
He  regarded  the  wild  accompaniment  as 
an  expression  of  the  tumult  that  had  been 
raised  in  his  own  soul. 

This  is  the  letter: 


1 84  DOC    HORNE 

LAKE  WAUTENON,  July  24. 
Dear  Friend: — 

When  mother  and  I  first  spoke  to  you  of  our  being 
at  the  lake  this  summer,  you  promised  faithfully  that 
you  would  run  out  some  Sunday  and  call  on  us.  Per- 
haps you  have  forgotten  your  promise,  but  you  did 
promise,  and  we  really  want  you  to  come.  The  lake 
is  more  beautiful  this  year  than  ever  before,  and  there 
were  never  so  many  nice  people  here — from  Milwau- 
kee and  Chicago  and  quite  a  number  from  the  south. 
We  are  at  a  cottage  not  far  from  the  hotel.  The  'bus 
will  meet  you  at  the  Wautenon  station  and  bring  you 
to  the  hotel,  and  then  any  one  can  tell  you  the  way. 
If  you  are  coming  out  on  Saturday  you  had  better 
write  or  telegraph  to  the  hotel  for  a  room,  as  there  is 
a  crowd  here  every  Sunday.  Mother  and  I  really 
hope  you  will  come,  because  we  know  it  must  be 
dreadful  to  be  cooped  up  in  the  dusty  and  smoky 
city,  all  through  this  hot  weather. 

We  are  living  in  a  cottage  with  a  family  from  our 
old  home.  I  am  sure  you  would  like  them. 

Let  us  know  when  you  are  coming,  and  please  don't 
disappoint  us.  Mother  sends  her  regards  and  both 
of  us  wish  to  be  remembered  to  Mr.  Home.  Perhaps 
you  could  induce  him  to  come  with  you.  Be  sure 
and  come. 

I  am,  yours  sincerely, 

LETITIA  MILBURY. 

Clearly  it  was  not  a  love  letter,  and  yet  it 
was  full  of  meaning  for  the  dentist,  who 
walked  back  and  forth  in  his  room,  gazing 
at  the  floor  and  pursing  his  lips.  Acting  on 


THE    LETTER  185 

a  sudden  impulse,  he  bolted  into  the  hallway 
and  went  direct  to  Doc'  Home's  room. 
Doc'  had  removed  his  outer  garments  and 
was  sitting  in  the  window,  cooling  off. 

"Doc',  I'm  in  the  devil  of  a  fix,"  said  the 
dentist,  as  he  frowned  and  twisted  his 
mustache. 

"What  in  the  world's  the  matter  now?" 

"I've  got  a  letter  from  Miss  Milbury,  and 
she  wants  me  to  come  out  to  the  lake  and 
visit  them.  It  seems  that  I  promised  them 
I  would.  I  don't  remember  it,  but  I  sup- 
pose I  did." 

"Are  you  going?" 

'I  hadn't  ought  to  go,  Doc'.  You  know 
that.  I  hadn't  ought  to.  If  you're  not 
going  to  do  a  thing  it  isn't  right  to — well,  to 
pretend  that  you  are.  I  don't  want  to  mis- 
lead any  one.  I'm  a  gentleman,  Doc'.  I 
don't  believe  there  ought  to  be  any  decep- 
tion in  a  case  of  this  kind." 

"Oh,  well,  write  a  diplomatic  letter  and 
excuse  yourself." 

"I  can  tell  you  one  thing — I'd  like  mighty 
well  to  go. ' ' 

"Why  not  go,  then?" 

The  dentist  continued  to  pull  at  his  mus- 
tache, but  he  made  no  reply. 


186  DOC    HORNE 

"How  about  the  young  lady  you  met  last 
week?"  asked  Doc',  softly. 

The  dentist  shook  his  head. 

"I'd  go  out  and  visit  them,  I  think,"  said 
Doc',  in  a  consoling  tone.  "Don't  you  think 
you'd  better?" 

"No!"  exclaimed  the  dentist,  jamming 
the  letter  into  his  side  pocket,  and  without 
saying  another  word  he  walked  out. 

Doc'  was  saddened  by  the  turn  of  affairs. 
He  began  to  fear  that  he  was  not  succeeding 
as  a  match-maker  for  the  dentist. 


CHAPTER    XVII 


DOC*    HORNE    AS    A    DETECTIVE 

It  came  out  one  evening  that  Doc'  Home 
had  been  a  detective  in  Bolivar.  He  was 
talking  with  the  married  man,  and  had 
given  his  theory 
as  to  that  week's 
"mysterious  disap- 
pearance. " 

"You  'would 
have  made  a  good 
detective,  Doc'," 
said  the  married 


man. 

"I  don't  know 
that  I  have  any 
particular  ability 
in  that  line, "said 
Doc',  picking  at 
the  charred  end  of 
his  cigar.  '"I  never 
was  a  professional  detective,  but  I  cleared  up 
one  mystery  after  the  police  had  given  it  up. 
Certainly  I  gave  a  few  points  to  the  cross- 


THE  CROSS-ROADS   ORACLE. 


1 88  DOC'    HORNE 

roads  oracles  over  my  way.  The  town  of 
Bolivar  was  about  forty  miles  from  our 
home.  For  over  a  year  there  had  been  a 
series  of  mysterious  robberies  at  Bolivar — at 
least  thirty  private  houses  and  stores  had 
been  entered.  The  locks  had  been  picked 
in  most  cases,  although  occasionally  the  rob- 
bers would  get  in  by  cutting  out  glass  with 
a  diamond.  The}7  took  only  jewels  and 
money — never  anything  bulky.  They  went 
to  the  best  houses  in  town  and  seemed  to 
know  the  premises,  for  they  never  spent  any 
time  in  rummaging.  They  went  direct  to 
the  place  where  the  valuables  were  con- 
cealed. One  peculiarity  of  the  robberies 
was  that  no  one  had  ever  been  awakened 
while  the  thieves  were  in  the  house.  It 
was  supposed  that  chloroform  or  some  drug 
was  used  to  keep  the  inmates  of  the  house 
asleep  while  the  robbers  were  at  work,  but 
this  could  never  be  proved.  The  robbers 
had  never  been  caught  at  work  except  once. 
A  night-watchman  saw  a  door  ajar  and  went 
into  the  house  to  investigate.  Some  one 
stepped  up  to  him  and  clapped  a  handker- 
chief to  his  face,  and  that  was  the  last  he 
remembered  until  daylight.  The  police  put 
on  extra  men  at  night  after  that,  but  it 


AS    A    DETECTIVE  189 

didn't  seem  to  make  any  difference.      The 
robberies  went  ahead  just  the  same — two  or 
three  a  month.     At  last  a  friend  of  mine  said 
to  me:    'Home,  why  don't  you  go  over  to 
Bolivar  and  find  out  who  is  committing  all 
those  robberies?'     I  didn't  care  much  for  the 
reward,    but    the    mystery    of     the     thing 
attracted  me-,  and  so  I  went  over  to  Bolivar. 
"Whenever  I  undertake  anything  I  begin 
at  the  beginning.     I  didn't  go  off  on  any 
wild-goose  chase.     When  I  reached  Bolivar 
I  went  to  the  chief  of  police  and  got  a  list  of 
robberies  for  a  year  past,  the  date  of  each 
one,  the  value  of  goods  stolen,  and  the  loca- 
tion of  each  house  entered.     Then  I  went  to 
my  room   and    sat    down,   with    a   map  of 
Bolivar  in  front  of  me,  and  I  marked  with 
dots   the  houses  which    had    been    robbed. 
When  I  finished  I  found  that  I  had  dotted 
out  a  sort    of    broad  path    connecting  the 
extreme  northeast  of  town  with  the  south- 
west.     You   must  understand  that  Bolivar 
was  built  along  the  river,  which  runs  south 
at   that  part  of  its  course.      My  discovery 
relating  to  the  path  of    the   robberies  was 
interesting,    but   it  didn't    prove   anything. 
Then   I  studied  the   dates,  and  in  two  min- 
utes I   made  another    discovery.     I    found 


i9o  DOC    HORNE 

that  all  the  robberies  had  been  committed 
during  the  first  half  of  each  month — that  is, 
between  the  first  and  fifteenth.  Strangely 
enough,  no  one  had  ever  called  attention  to 
that  fact  before.  I  said  to  myself:  'These 
robberies  are  committed  by  some  one  who  is 
either  out  of  town  during  the  last  half  of 
each  month,  or  who  has  some  particular 
reason  for  keeping  quiet.  It  is  evident  that 
he  knows  all  about  the  interior  arrange- 
ments of  the  residences  in  this  town.  He  is 
a  clever  man,  also,  or  he  would  not  have 
escaped  suspicion.'  Well,  I  sat  around  and 
thought  it  over,  and  I'll  confess  I  was 
puzzled  to  know  how  to  begin.  Then  a 
very  curious  thing  happened.  I  picked  up 
a  morning  paper  and  glanced  at  it,  and 
there,  on  the  first  page,  was  a  big  advertise- 
ment of  1D]%  James  Brascall,  specialist  in 
electrical  treatment,  will  be  in  Bolivar  from 
May  ist  to  May  i5th.'  I  jumped  up  and 
said:  'That's  my  man!'  I'd  never  heard  of 
him  before,  but  I  felt,  intuitively,  that  I  had 
struck  a  trail. 

"I  began  making  inquiries.  I  learned 
that  Dr.  Brascall  had  been  visiting  Bolivar, 
in  a  professional  way,  two  weeks  out  of 
each  month  for  a  year  or  more.  He  had  an 


AS    A    DETECTIVE  191 

office  on  the  main  street,  but  he  also  gave 
treatments  in  his  room  at  Mrs.  Allen's 
house,  which  was  in  the  northwest  part  of 
town.  He  was  well  liked  in  Bolivar,  espe- 
cially by  the  men,  and  had  been  admitted  to 
membership  in  the  club  there.  Much  to  my 
surprise,  I  learned  that  he  was  not  a  society 
man.  So  far  as  I  could  ascertain,  he  had 
visited  but  two  or  three  of  the  houses  which 
had  been  robbed.  His  reputation  in  the 
town  was  above  reproach.  He  attended 
church  regularly  and  had  no  bad  habits. 
The  doctors  of  the  town  called  him  a  quack 
and  an  impostor,  naturally,  because  he 
advertised,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  most  of 
his  patients  stood  up  for  him.  I  could  learn 
of  nothing  which  would  show  that  he  had 
been  implicated  in  the  robberies,  and  yet  I 
felt  in  my  bones  that  he  was  the  man.  I 
went  to  Mrs.  Allen's  house,  where  he 
roomed,  and,  under  pretense  of  wishing  to 
engage  a  room,  I  got  into  conversation  with 
the  woman.  She  said  she  could  give  me  a 
room  on  the  second  floor — that  Dr.  Brascall 
had  taken  the  only  first-floor  room.  I  asked 
her  if  I  could  have  the  doctor's  room  while 
he  was  in  Pittsburg.  She  said  the  doctor 
paid  for  the  room,  even  while  he  was  out  of 


i92  DOC'    HORNE 

town,  and  had  given  particular  orders  that 
no  one  should  be  allowed  in  his  room  while 
he  was  away.  In  further  conversation  she 
said  that  the  doctor  never  went  out  at  night, 
but  this  did  not  spoil  my  theory,  as  I  sur- 
mised that  he  might  have  taken  a  first-floor 
room  so  as  to  be  able  to  get  out  through  a 
window  without  disturbing  any  one. 

"The  case  presented  difficulties,  and  yet  I 
was  more  than  ever  keen  to  fix  the  rob- 
beries on  this  doctor.  I  went  to  the  chief  of 
police  and  had  another  long  talk.  I  asked 
him  if  he  had  ever  suspected  any  one.  He 
said  that  at  one  time  Bill  Gregory  was  under 
suspicion.  I  asked  about  Gregory  and 
learned  that  he  was  a  man-of-all-work, 
employed  by  Mrs.  Walton,  a  widow,  who 
lived  in  the  southeast  part  of  town.  She 
had  come  to  Bolivar  about  a  year  before  and 
had  brought  Gregory  with  her.  He  did  all 
the  work  around  the  place,  and  drove  her 
phaeton  when  she  went  calling.  She  was 
something  of  an  invalid,  subject  to  nervous 
attacks,  and  this  Gregory  had  to  help  her  in 
and  out  of  the  houses  where  she  called.  It 
seemed  that  one  night  Gregory  was  seen 
coming  out  of  an  alley,  and  a  policeman 
stopped  him  and  found  a  revolver  on  him. 


AS    A    DETECTIVE  193 

Gregory  claimed  that  he  was  on  his  way  to 
summon  Dr.  Brascall  to  attend  Mrs.  Wal- 
ton, who  was  suffering"  from  one  of  her 
attacks,  and  that  he  had  come  through  the 
alley  for  a  short  cut.  The  policeman 
doubted  him,  so  he  went  with  Gregory  to 
Mrs.  Allen's  house.  After  some  delay,  Dr. 
Brascall  came  to  the  door.  The  policeman 
followed  the  doctor  to  Mrs.  Walton's  house. 
He  found  her  in  great  pain.  She  said  she 
had  sent  Gregory  for  the  doctor,  and  of 
course  that  satisfied  the  policeman  and  re- 
lieved Gregory  from  suspicion. 

"Well,  sir,  that  set  me  to  thinking.  I 
asked  the  chief  to  indicate  to  me  on  the  map 
where  Mrs.  Walton  lived.  He  did  so,  and  I 
saw  at  once  that  this  house  and  the  house  in 
which  the  doctor  lived  marked  the  ends  of 
the  district  within  which  the  robberies  had 
been  committed.  In  other  words,  any  one 
proceeding  from  the  doctor's  house  to  Mrs. 
Walton's  house  could  pass  by  any  house  or 
store  that  had  been  robbed  and  still  not  be 
going  out  of  the  way.  I  surmised  at  once 
that  Mrs.  Walton  was  in  the  plot ;  that  she 
was  to  be  ready  to  testify,  in  case  the  doctor 
fell  under  suspicion  because  of  his  appear- 
ance on  the  streets  at  night,  that  she  had 


194  DOC'    HORNE 

sent  for  him  and  .that  he  was  on  his  way  to 
attend  her.  But  Mrs.  Allen  had  said  that 
the  doctor  did  not  go  out  at  night.  I 
believed  then  that  Gregory  came  to  his  win- 
dow and  tapped  and  that  the  doctor  crawled 
out  of  the  window.  At  any  rate,  I  felt  sure 
that  both  Gregory  and  the  charming  widow 
were  in  the  game.  I  inquired  regarding 
Mrs.  Walton,  and  learned  that  she  was  very 
popular  with  the  best  people,  and  was  a 
prominent  member  of  the  literary  club  which 
met  at  the  homes  of  the  members.  At  last 
I  began  to  understand  how  the  doctor,  sup- 
posing that  he  was  the  guilty  ring-leader, 
learned  where  the  jewelry  and  valuables 
were  kept  in  each  residence.  By  this  time 
I  had  the  case  fairly  mapped  out  in  my  own 
mind,  but  I  hadn't  a  particle  of  proof. 

"I  sounded  the  chief  of  police  as  to  Dr. 
Brascall,  without  hinting  my  suspicions.  It 
seemed  that  he  and  the  doctor  were  intimate 
friends.  In  fact,  the  doctor  had  assisted 
him  in  getting  up  a  new  schedule  for  the 
night  policemen  so  that  they  could  cover  the 
town  more  effectively.  Yes,  sir,  that  doctor 
had  actually  assigned  the  policemen  to  their 
beats,  so  that  he  would  know  how  to  keep 
out  of  their  way. 


AS   A    DETECTIVE  195 

"Well,  when  my  investigations  were  about 
this  far  along-,  the  doctor,  whom  I  had  seen 
only  casually,  went  to  Pittsburg.  I  followed 
him,  and  learned  that  while  he  was  in  that 
city  he  made*but  little  pretense  to  practice, 
and  spent  most  of  his  time  in  gambling.  As 
soon  as  he  returned  to  Bolivar  again  I 
resolved  to  bring  matters  to  a  head  and 
watch  the  house  where  he  lived.  For  three 
nights  I  lay  crouched  behind  a  rose  bush 
watching  his  windows,  and  I  could  have 
sworn  that  no  one  came  to  the  house  or 
went  away.  On  the  third  morning,  after  I 
got  back  to  the  hotel,  I  learned  that  the 
Pearson  residence  had  been  entered  and 
fifteen  hundred  dollars'  worth  of  diamonds 
taken.  I  could  not  believe  that  Brascall  had 
left  the  house  .that  night,  and  yet  I  felt  sure 
that  he  had  done  the  job.  I  knew  that  I  had 
to  deal  with  a  mystery,  sure  enough. 

"My  whole  theory  was  apparently  de- 
stroyed. I  had  surmised  that  the  widow,  Mrs. 
Walton,  would  send  this  man  Gregory  to  sum- 
mon Dr.  Brascall.  The  doctor  and  Gregory 
would  start  in  the  direction  of  the  widow's 
house  at  the  other  end  of  the  town.  If  seen 
out  at  night  together  they  had  a  plausible 
story  to  tell,  and  the  widow  stood  ready  to 


196  DOC'    HORNE 

corroborate  everything  they  said.  There 
would  never  be  any  chance  to  implicate  them 
unless  they  were  actually  caught  in  the  act 
of  robbery.  I  had  watched  the  house  in 
order  to  shadow  the  doctor.  There  had  been 
another  robbery,  and  yet  he  had  not  left  the 
house,  so  far  as  I  could  observe.  Some  men 
would  have  been  discouraged  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, but  I  was  not.  I  simply  con- 
cluded that  he  was  clever  enough  to  get  out 
of  the  house  without  using  the  front  door 
or  the  back  door  or  crawling  through  a  win- 
dow." 

"How  could  that  be?"  asked  the  married 
man. 

"There  was  a  cellar  under  the  house," 
said  Doc',  impressively.  "What  was  to  pre- 
vent him  loosening  the  carpet  and  sawing 
out  a  trapdoor  in  the  floor,  so  that  he  could 
lower  himself  into  the  cellar,  and  thus  get 
out  of  the  house  through  a  cellar  door  at  the 
rear?  A  grape  arbor  extended  from  this 
cellar  door  to  the  barn  or  shed,  next  to  the 
alley.  He  could  come  up  out  of  the  cellar, 
slip  along  the  grape  arbor,  go  through  the 
shed,  and  reach  the  alley  without  being  seen 
by  any  one  watching  the  house  from  the 
side  or  front." 


AS  A    DETECTIVE  197 

"Well,  I'll  be  darned!"  said  the  bicycle 
youth. 

"I  examined  the  cellar  the  evening  after 
the  Pearson  robbery,"  said  Doc'. 

"How  did  you  get  in?"  asked  the  married 
man. 

Doc'  smacked  his  lips  dryly  and  winked  at 
the  dentist.  Then  he  said:  "I  simply  went 
in.  Suffice  to  say,  I  located  the  trap-door, 
and  figured  out  in  my  own  mind  the  exact 
plan  of  the  robbers.  Brascall  and  Gregory 
would  plan  on  a  robbery  for  a  certain  night. 
Gregory  would  leave  Mrs.  Walton's  house 
for  the  pretended  purpose  of  summoning  the 
doctor.  One  might  naturally  suppose  that 
he  would  have  gone  to  the  house  where  the 
doctor  roomed  and  rung  him  or  tapped  on 
his  window.  But  they  were  .too  shrewd. 
They  figured  that  sooner  or  later  some  sus- 
picious person  would  be  waiting  to  shadow 
them,  and  so  they  had  it  arranged  that 
Brascall  was  to  come  out  through  the  cellar 
and  meet  Gregory  in  the  alley.  Then  they 
would  start  in  the  general  direction  of  the 
widow's  house.  As  I  told  you  before, 
Brascall  knew  exactly  what  districts  the 
police  were  covering  at  that  time  of  night, 
because  he  had  helped  the  chief  arrange  the 


198  DOC    HORNE 

schedule.  His  appearance  on  the  street  at 
any  hour  of  the  night  would  arouse  no  sus- 
picion, and  he  could  carry  a  box  supposed  to 
be  a  'battery'  for  his  electrical  treatment. 
I'll  tell  you,  that  man  was  clever.  I  saw 
that  I  would  have  to  detect  him  in  the 
act  before  I  could  bring  any  proof  which 
would  be  conclusive  to  a  jury.  The  only 
sensible  plan,  it  seemed  to  me,  was  to 
hide  in  that  shed  every  night  until  they 
went  out  again,  and  then  to  follow  them. 
For  five  nights  I  sat  all  night  long  back  in  a 
dark  corner  of  this  shed,  waiting  for  some- 
thing to  happen.  On  the  sixth  night — it  was 
then  along  about  the  middle  of  June,  and  I 
remember  it  was  a  warm  night,  but  cloudy 
— I  heard  some  one  in  the  alley.  In  a  little 
while  the  door  leading  to  the  yard  opened, 
and  in  came  Brascall  with  a  big  box,  which 
he  carried  by  a  handle.  My  eyes  were 
accustomed  to  the  darkness,  and  I  could  see 
him  distinctly.  He  passed  through  to  the 
alley,  and  I  heard  the  two  men  walk  away 
together,  talking  in  a  low  tone.  I  slipped 
out  and  followed  at  a  safe  distance.  Then  I 
realized  for  the  first  time  that  I  had  no 
authority  as  an  officer;  that  it  was  one  man 
against  two  desperate,  armed  men,  and  that 


AS    A    DETECTIVE  199 

even  if  I  saw  them  commit  a  robbery  my 
word  might  not  be  accepted  against  that  of 
Dr.  Brascall,  who  was  well  known  in 
Bolivar,  while  I  was  a  comparative  stranger. 
But  it  was  too  late  to  back  out.  I  followed 
them,  and,  to  make  a  long  story  short,  I  saw 
them  slip  through  the  back  yard  of  Judge 
Wilkinson's  house  and  start  to  work  at  the 
door.  They  were  experts,  sure  enough,  for 
they  had  that  door  open  in  two  minutes. 
They  slipped  in,  and  closed  the  door  behind 
them,  and  I  tiptoed  up,  and,  taking  off  my 
shoes,  I  followed  into  the  house.  Just  inside 
the  door  my  foot  struck  something,  and  at 
the  same  time  I  got  an  odor  of  chloroform 
or  ether.  I  picked  up  the  cloth  soaked  with 
the  stuff,  whatever  it  was,  and  threw  it  out 
of  the  back  door.  I  could  hear  the  two  men 
ahead  of  me  in  the  house,  and  I  guessed  that 
they  were  planting  these  soaked  cloths 
around  the  house  so  as  to  keep  the  inmates 
asleep.  In  a  flash  I  realized  what  I  would 
have  to  do.  I  opened  the  back  door,  and 
then  I  felt  my  way  through  the  sitting- 
room  to  the  front  hallway.  I  could  hear  the 
two  men  whispering  in  the  parlor.  It  was 
a  big  risk,  but  I  felt  my  way  to  the  stairway, 
which  I  could  see  dimly,  and  then  crawled 


200  DOC'    HORNE 

upstairs.  There  was  a  big  pair  of  windows 
on  the  landing  above,  opening  in  the  old- 
fashioned  way,  like  shutters.  I  gently 
pushed  the  windows  open.  One  of  them 
squeaked,  but  I  heard  no  sound  from  below, 
so  I  went  ahead.  I  felt  a  draught  of  air  up 
the  stairway.  I  knew  that  most  of  the  other 
windows  were  open  also,  and  so  I  had  no 
fear  of  the  chloroform  keeping  the  family 
asleep  while  there  was  a  movement  of  fresh 
air  in  the  house.  My  time  had  come.  I 
stood  at  the  bend  of  the  stairway,  and  when 
Brascall  and  Gregory  came  up  I  jumped 
between  them  and  the  front  door  and  said: 
'Don't  move,  or  I'll  shoot!'  Then  I  blew  a 
police  whistle,  and  the  old  judge  himself 
came  running  out,  followed  by  the  whole 
family,  half-dressed.  Brascall  and  Gregory 
stood  there  looking  into  my  pistol.  I  had 
caught  them  fairly.  The  women  were 
screaming,  and  every  one  was  excited,  of 
course.  Judge  Wilkinson  grabbed  Brascall, 
and  wanted  to  know  what  was  the  matter. 
Gentlemen,  would  you  believe  it?  Brascall 
told  him  that  he  and  Gregory  saw  me  enter 
the  house  and  had  followed  me.  The  judge 
believed  it,  too,  but  I  didn't  lose  my  nerve. 
I  told  them  to  send  for  the  police  and  have 


AS    A    DETECTIVE  201 

all  three  of  us  taken  to  the  station.     Brascall 
protested,  and  said  he  had  to  call  on  Mrs. 


FOR   THREE   NIGHTS — BEHIND   A    ROSE    BUSH. 


202     -  DOC'    HORNE 

Walton  at  once,  but  he  couldn't  bluff  me.  I 
made  the  police  take  all  three  of  us  to  the 
station.  When  we  got  there  I  said:  'Open 
that  box!'  They  opened  Brascall's  box,  and 
it  contained  what  seemed  to  be  a  battery. 
The  police  laughed  at  me.  They  actually 
laughed  at  me.  They  thought  I  was  the 
thief  and  was  trying  a  clever  scheme  to 
clear  myself.  Well,  I  was  mad.  I  grabbed 
that  'battery'  and  tore  off  the  false  top,  and 
underneath  was  a  kit  of  tools  for  picking 
locks  and  a  bottle  of  chloroform.  Brascall 
smiled  at  Gregory  and  said:  'It's  all  up.' 
Then  I  told  the  police  to  go  and  search  his 
rooms.  They  found  all  the  Pearson 
diamonds,  and  of  course  that  settled  it. 
But  maybe  you  think  that  town  wasn't  torn 
up  next  day!  They  never  did  get  through 
poking  fun  at  that  chief  of  police.  It  came 
out  later  that  Mrs.  Walton  was  really 
Brascall's  wife." 

"Well,  what  did  Brascall  get?"  asked  the 
married  man. 

4 'Ten years,  the  same  as  Gregory,"  replied 
Doc'.  "He  always  claimed  that  if  I  had 
kept  away  from  Bolivar  he  never  would 
have  been  caught. ' ' 


CHAPTER   XVIII 


THE    LOSS    OF        THE    LITTLE    LADY 

As  the  month  of  August  was  passing,  the 
freckled  boy  met  with  reverses.  He  lost 
not  only  his  money  but  his  "little  lady," 
this  being  the  name 
he  gave  to  the  girl 
whom  he  had  favored 
with  his  society  at 
least  two  nights  in 
every  week. 

When  the  boy  first 
came  to  the  hotel  he 
found  employment  as 
a  house-to- house 
salesman  and  "intro- 
duced" anew  kind  of 
soap.  In  a  few  weeks 

1        ,  ,    ,.  r  TRYING   TO    RECOUP. 

he  learned  that  a  for- 
tune awaited  him  at  the  race-track,  so  he  be- 
gan to  "play  the  horses. "  Luck  was  with  him 
at  the  start,  for  he  carried  a  roll  of  bills, 
which  he  brought  out  and  fondled  every 
203 


204  DOC'    HORNE 

evening,  merely  to  tantalize  those  persons 
who  were  so  stupid  as  to  work  for  a  liv- 
ing. 

He  would  crowd  himself  to  the  front  of 
the  evening  group  at  the  hotel  and  say: 
"Well,  I  picked  three  of  'em  to-day.  I  got 
a  four-to-one  that  I  ought  to  backed  off  the 
board  becuz  I  couldn't  see  nothin'  else  to  it. 
I  ought  to  laid  a  hunderd  on  that  race.  At 
that,  I'm  forty  to  the  good.  W'y,  it's  just 
like  takin'  candy  away  from  a  baby.  I 
s'pose  I  don't  know  a  thing  about  them 
ponies.  An'  I've  got  to-morrow's  card  just 
about  figured  out,  too." 

"Keep  at  it,  my  young  friend,"  said  Doc'. 
"It's  only  a  question  of  time  until  they  take 
all  you  have." 

"Don't  you  believe  it,  Doc'.  Whenever  I 
lay  a  piece  o'  money  on  a  race  I  know  purty 
well  what  I'm  doin'." 

One  evening  when  he  came  back  he  did 
not  display  any  money.  Neither  did  he  talk 
about  his  unfailing  ability  to  pick  the 
winner.  The  colony  suspected  that  his 
career  as  a  race-track  gambler  had  come  to 
an  end.  Three  days  after  that,  the  dentist 
found  him  standing  in  front  of  a  doorway  in 
Jackson  Street,  urging  people  to  "go  upon 


"THE    LITTLE    LADY"         205 

the  inside"  and  have  their  straw  hats  cleaned 
for  five  cents  a  hat. 

* '  Hello ! ' '  exclaimed  the  dentist.  '  *  You're 
not  at  the  track  any  more?" 

The  boy  was  embarrassed,  but  he  man- 
aged to  say:  ''No,  I've  got  a  better  thing 
right  here." 

"Cleaning  straw  hats?" 

"Yes,  we  knock  out  fifty  a  day." 

"Hats?" 

"Naw,  not  hats!     Fifty  plunks." 

"At  five  cents  a  hat?" 

"Well,  we  take  it  in,  just  the  same. 
They  keep  us  busy  nearly  all  the  time.  It's 
a  little  quiet  just  now." 

The  news  was  carried  to  the  hotel,  and 
the  lush  found  great  pleasure  in  taunting 
the  boy. 

"So  you're  the  fellow  that  couldn't  go 
wrong?"  he  asked. 

"That's  all  right,"  said  the  freckled  boy, 
sullenly.  "I  didn't  lose  much." 

*  *  No,  but  you  lost  all  you  had. ' ' 

"I  may  lose,  but  I  don't  holler.  That's 
me!  It's  my  money  an*  I  quit  game.  You 
don't  hear  me  hollerin*.  All  I  say  is  that 
the  horse  was  pulled.  That's  right,  too. 
Say,  there  was  the  rankest  job  ever  pulled 


206  DOC'    HORNE 

off  on  a  track.  I  know  them  horses.  That 
wasn't  my  first  day  at  a  track,  I'll  tell  you 
that.  There  was  only  one  way  for  Dido  to 
lose  that  race,  and  that  was  to  drop  dead  at 
the  post." 

"But  she  didn't  win?"  asked  the  lush. 

"How  could  she,  when  she  was  pulled?  I 
just  tore  up  two  hunderd  dollars'  worth  of 
tickets— that's  all  I  done.  Well,  that's  all 
right.  I  ain't  hollerin',  but  I  want  to  tell 
you  that  Gracie  Watson  didn't  have  no  more 
license  to  beat  Dido  that  day  than  I've  got 
to  walk  backwards  from  here  to  Milwaukee 
and  beat  the  limited.  Talk  about  your 
steals!  W'y,  it  was  worse  than  takin' 
money  right  out  o'  your  pocket.  Everybody 
seen  it.  And  at  that  this  dog  only  wins  by 
a  head.  Would  I  play  him  for  place?  No, 
not  for  a  minute.  I  says,  'There's  only  one 
horse  in  the  race,  and  them  others'll  be 
back  o'  the  flag.  It  was  the  worst  case  of 
fixin'  a  race  I  ever  seen.  Oh  well,  a  man 
gets  it  that  way  once  in  a  while.  I  lose  my 
money  and  I  ain't  hollerin'." 

During  the  two  weeks  of  his  connection 
with  the  hat-cleaning  industry  the  boy 
played  poker  at  a  Clark  Street  room,  in  the 
hope  that  he  might  recoup  his  losses.  The 


"THE    LITTLE   LADY"        207 

poker-players  "trimmed  him,"  as  he  ex- 
pressed it,  and  in  this  period  of  financial  de- 
pression the  "little  lady"  rejected  him,  or, 
to  use  his  own  language,  "tied  a  can  to 
him." 

He  told  the  dentist  the  story  one  night. 
The  dentist  listened  in  sad  amusement  and 
thought  of  the  contrast  between  this  love 
affair  and  his  own. 

"vShe's  got  my  name  up  over  the  door  with 
'nix'  after  it,"  said  the  freckled  boy.  "My 
coin  give  out,  an'  my  talk  wasn't  strong 
enough  to  hold  her,  so  I'm  scratched." 

"Did  you  have  a  quarrel?"  asked  the 
dentist. 

"Last  night.  I've  told  you  about  this 
little  party,  ain't  I?" 

"I  think  so." 

"Well,  she  was  number  one  with  me 
yesterday,  and  I  thought  I  was  the  hot 
favorite  with  her,  but  she  couldn't  see  me 
to-day  if  I  run  in  front  of  her  and  made 
motions. ' ' 

"And  I  thought  you  were  popular." 

"Strong?  It  looked  to  me  that  you 
couldn't  get  us  apart  with  a  crowbar.  I 
thought  she  needed  me.  If  anybody  'd  said 
to  me  that  he  could  split  us  out  I'd  told  him 


208  DOC'    HORNE 

to  write  his  own  ticket.  That's  how  good  I 
was.  I  had  myself  billed  as  the  real  papa. 
I  was  writin'  mash  notes  to  myself.  That's 
right.  I  had  about  three  lamps  goin'  at  the 
same  time  an'  I  couldn't  roll  'em  big 
enough.  Then  just  about  the  time  I  begin 
to  pick  out  red  plush  furniture  for  the  bird's 
nest  I  wake  up  an'  find  myself  layin'  in  the 
snow.  I'm  a  bright  young  fellow — with  a 
copper  on  it.  Me  sayin'  that  a  blacksmith 
couldn't  drive  a  needle  in  between  us! 
Well,  you  could  get  a  half-mile  track  inside 
o'  the  separation  to-day.  Say,  I  can  just  see 
the  canary  goin'  up  to  join  the  carpenters' 
union — a  hammer  in  each  hand.  Got  a 
brother,  too — a  scrapper.  Husky?  He's 
got  a  chest  on  him  like  a  snow-plow.  If 
ever  I  go  to  the  mat  with  that  truck-horse 
there  won't  be  a  thing  to  it." 

"You're  not  afraid  of  him,  are  you?" 
"I  ain't,  eh?  You  ought  to  see  him. 
He's  got  me  nervous.  I  go  along  the  street 
with  my  guard  up,  on  the  level.  You  ought 
to  see  me  to-day — ridin'  on  the  platform  so 
as  to  be  ready  to  make  a  run  for  it  if  any- 
thing come  off.  You  think  you  get  me  on 
one  o'  them  high  trains?  Well,  I  should  say 
otherwise.  None  o'  the  elevated  for  me. 


"THE    LITTLE    LADY"         209 

It's  too  far  to  jump.  I  refuse  to  start  unless 
they  put  me  on  a  track. ' ' 

"Why  should  he  interfere?  You  didn't 
do  anything  that  would  justify  him  in  lick- 
ing you,  did  you?" 

4 'Well,  I  didn't  use  her  none  too  gentle. 
I  kind  o'  jolted  her  a  couple." 

"Then  I  don't  blame  him." 

"I  didn't  pass  'em  to  her,  understand?  I 
did  it  pullin'  away,  see?  Here!  I'll  tell 
you  what  led  up  to  it.  You  know,  when  I 
been  landin'  in  there  they  light  all  the  gas 
in  the  house,  and  then  if  I  don't  look  pleased 
they  send  out  and  get  some  more.  Well, 
last  night  things  didn't  light  up  in  any 
hurry,  but  I  was  so  swelled  on  myself  settin' 
there  with  the  blue  check  and  the  new  four- 
in-hand  that  I  didn't  take  no  notice.  Purty 
soon  the  real  article  floated  in  and  handed 
me  a  cake  of  ice.  Well,  that  didn't  stop  me, 
becuz  my  specialty  is  makin'  these  chilly 
dolls  change  their  minds  and  think  well  of 
me.  I  started  in  to  deal  a  very  neat  line  of 
talk  about  the  weather,  an'  she  give  me  a 
glassy  look  an'  says:  'How  about  the 
tickets?'  This  is  the  fifth  week  that  I  been 
tellin'  her  that  I'd  take  her  to  see  a  dollar 'n 
a  half  show.  I  says:  'Just  my  luck! 


210  DOC'    HORNE 

Couldn't  get  a  seat  in  the  house!'  4No-o-o?' 
she  says,  givin'  me  the  haughty  look.  'No,' 
I  says,  4I  couldn't  get  nothin'  at  all  except 
way  up  high,  and  I  wouldn't  take  you  up 
among  them  fellows,  becuz  I  love  you  too 
well  for  that!'  No  use.  That  didn't  faze 
her.  I  begin  to  get  next,  and  see  that  I'd 
lost  my  number  by  failin'  to  show  up  with 
three  dollars'  worth  of  tickets,  but  no  box 
office  ever  gets  three  out  o'  me  at  one  toss, 
unless  they  use  chloroform.  As  I  say,  I  saw 
she  had  an  awful  grouch  about  the  tickets. 
Either  that  or  somethin'  live  had  turned  up 
and  was  workin'  to  undermine  me.  In 
either  case  it  was  up  to  me  to  pump  some 
hot  air.  I  slid  over  on  the  sofa  next  to  her 
an'  tried  for  the  half-Nelson,  but  she  hol- 
lered and  refused  to  clinch.  Then  I  started 
in  to  be  rough,  but  she  wouldn't  stand  for 
it.  She  fouled  me  with  her  wrist  right  in 
the  face  an'  broke  away.  Oh,  the  look  she 
give  me!  Talk  about  your  lemon  ice  or 
your  sour  drops !  She  set  clear  over  on  the 
other  side  of  the  room,  and  no  nearer  than 
that  could  I  get.  The  way  she  wiggled 
around  on  that  chair  you'd  thought  there 
was  an  oil  stove  under  it.  It  was  'yes'  and 
'no'  to  all  the  cracks  I  made,  but  no  givin' 


"THE    LITTLE    LADY"         211 

in,  an'  after  while  I  begin  to  get  sore 
myself,  and  was  about  to  get  up  an'  declare 
myself  when  some  one  rings  the  front  door- 
bell, an'  she  does  a  sprint  to  see  who  it  is. 
In  a  little  while  I  hear  her  buzzin'  some- 
body out  in  the  hall.  Me  in  the  parlor, 
understand?  pipin'  the  pictures  an'  the 
phoney  album  an'  her  outside  makin*  it 
pleasant  for  the  new  entry.  This  went  on 
for  about  ten  minutes  an'  then  I  begin  to  see 
that  I'm  in  the  way.  They'd  laugh  once  in 
a  while,  and  I  figured  that  they  was  havin' 
fun  with  me.  Whoever  the  guy  was,  he  put 
the  rollers  under  me  all  right.  They  kept 
me  shell-roaded  in  the  parlor  for  fifteen  min- 
utes, and  then  I  broke  out.  I  didn't  mind 
bein'  thrown,  but  I  wanted  'em  to  notice 
how  graceful  I  went  into  the  air.  So  I  went 
out  and  broke  it  up. ' ' 

4 'Did  you  make  trouble?" 

"Did  I?  First  I  sneaked  up  to  the  door 
an'  listened.  I  heard  him  say  somethin' 
about  the  'fourth  row  of  the  circle'  an' 
'leavin'  the  house  about  half-past  seven,' 
an'  I  knew  that  whoever  he  was,  he'd  give 
up  his  coin  an'  copped  the  princess.  I 
opened  the  door  sudden,  and  there  they  was, 
settin'  on  the  bottom  stair,  holdin'  hands. 


212  DOC'    HORNE 

I  says:  'I  thought  I'd  come  out  an'  mingle. 
It's  gettin'  a  little  frosty  in  there,  an'  I'd 
like  to  meet  some  nice  people  an'  talk  it 
over.  I've  got  some  lovely  conversation 
that's  never  been  used  at  all.'  The  little 
lady  shot  one  o'  them  cold-storage  looks  at 
mean'  said:  'We're  havin'  a  private  talk.' 
That  encouraged  his  nobs  with  the  pink 
shirt  to  come  up  strong,  an'  he  says:  'It's 
about  a  matter  that  don't  interest  yon.' 
That  was  two  bumps  as  near  as  I  could 
count.  I'm  bright  enough  to  see  it  was  my 
cue  to  duck,  but  I'd  been  there  too  long  to 
let  any  stranger  chase  me  out.  So  I  says: 
'If  you've  got  time  to  step  outside  I'd  like  to 
fix  it  up  with  you. '  The  little  lady  pushes 
in  between  us  an'  says  to  me:  'You  behave 
yourself!'  He  was  gettin'  pale  an'  leary, 
an'  said  to  her  that  he  thought  he'd  be 
goin'.  By  that  time  I  was  so  mad  that 
nothin'  but  a  scrap'd  do  me.  He  opened 
the  door  an'  side-stepped,  me  after  him  an' 
the  little  lady  hangin'  onto  mean'  sayin': 
'Now,  you  behave!  Now,  you  behave!' 
Him  down  the  steps  in  a  hurry,  an'  then 
kickin'  around  for  somethin'  to  throw  at 
me.  She  had  me  collared  on  the  top  step 
an'  was  hangin'  on  as  if  she  thought  I  was  a 


"THE    LITTLE    LADY" 


213 


good  thing.  I  told  her  two  or  three  times 
to  break  nicely,  but  she  wouldn't  listen. 
Well,  Bud,  you  know  how  it  is.  You  ain't 
expected  to  swing  on  'em,  so  all  I  could  do 
was  to  let  the  elbow  go  back  a  couple  o' 
times.  She  let  out  a  horrible  grunt,  an' 
then  made  one  o'  them  ladylike  over-handed 
swipes  at  me,  but  I  dodged  it.  Cinch! 
Just  as  I  dodges,  a  brick  comes  past  me, 
bing!  an'  hits  the 
front  door.  Then  me 
after  the  enemy.  Did 
I  ketch  him?  W'y, 
I  didn't  have  a  show 
for  the  money.  When 
I'd  run  a  block  he 
must  'a'  been  at  Gar- 
field  Park.  Besides, 
here  I  was,  bare- 
headed. I  started 
back  an'  s'posed  I'd 
have  to  tear  down 
the  house  to  get  my 
hat,  but  I  finds  it  on 

,r  ,   ,  "THE   LITTLE    LADY." 

the  steps.    You  ought 

to  see  me  nail  it  an'  run  my  mile.  I  was 
expectin'  brother  to  come  right  out  o'  the 
window  at  me." 


214  DOC'    HORNE 

"What  were  you  afraid  of?  Hadn't  you 
just  chased  one  fellow  away?" 

"Who?  The  one  that  come  in  with  a 
check  for  my  seat?  Say,  he  wouldn't  weigh 
115,  shirt  and  all.  You  can  bet  I  always 
pick  the  right  man  before  I  lose  control  o' 
myself. ' ' 

"But  he  was  big  enough  to  cut  you  out, 
wasn't  he?" 

"Yes,  but  he  had  to  loosen  up  with  the 
coin  before  he  done  it.  If  ever  I  get  a  flash 
at  that  boy  it'll  be  first  me  to  him  an'  then 
one  o'  them  rubber-tired  wagons  from  the 
hospital. ' ' 


CHAPTER    XIX 

THE    DENTIST    LOSES    HIS    LAST    CHANCE 

The  dentist  did  not  reply  to  the  letter 
from  Miss  Milbury.  He  intended  to  write 
the  diplomatic  letter  suggested  by  Doc',  but 
on  sitting  down  to 
compose  it  he  found 
that  he  could  not 
choose  the  language. 
He  feared  that  a 
thankful  letter,  pro- 
te  sting  gratitude, 
would  encourage  her 
to  write  again  and 
might  involve  him 
in  a  correspondence. 
Then  it  would  be 
more  difficult  than 
ever  to  give  her  up. 

.  .    .  THE    DENTIST    IN    SUMMER. 

As   he   sat  with   the 

pen  poised  above  the  letter,  he  told  him- 
self that  only  a  brute  could  answer  such  a 
letter  with  cold  and  discouraging  formality. 
He  dismissed,  one  after  another,  the  lies 
215 


2i6  DOC    HORNE 

which  might  be  offered  in  explanation  of  his 
"regrets."  At  last  he  tore  up  the  paper  and 
said  that  he  would  try  again,  to-morrow. 

A  week  passed,  and  he  told  himself  that 
he  had  waited  too  long  and  would  not 
answer  at  all.  It  was  a  rude  but  effective 
way  of  closing  ,an  incident  which  he  had 
hoped  to  make .  the  prelude  to  his  life's  hap- 
piness. 

One  day  he  received  an  advertising  folder 
from  the  hotel  at  Wautenon.  He  concluded 
that  Miss  Milbury  had  given  his  name  to  the 
proprietor  of  the  hotel.  She  could  not  and 
would  not  write  to  him  again,  until  he  had 
paid  the  courtesy  of  an  answer,  but  she  could 
give  him  a  last  chance.  The  folder  was  in 
the, style  usually  chosen  for  the  advertising 
of  summer  resorts: 

"Oh,  fairest  spot  on  all  this  earth! 
Oh,  dream  of  paradise ! 
Wautenon. ' ' — McKay. 

Beneficent  Natuie  was  indeed  kindly  in  her  gifts  to 
this  favored  region.  Here  glimmers  an  opalescent 
lake  set  with  a  framework  of  richest  foliage!  The 
trees  rise  tall  and  stately  from  the  very  edge  of  the 
dimpled  waters,  and  the  hush  of  primeval  Nature  is 
only  broken  by  the  cheery  twitter  of  feathered  song- 
sters or  the  splash  of  some  finny  monarch  glorying  in 
strength  and  freedom.  Here,  far  from  the  haunts  of 


HIS    LAST    CHANCE  217 

busy  men,  the  worn  traveler  may  seek  surcease  from 
the  cark  and  care  of  this  workaday  world  and  while 
the  hours  away  in  sweet  forgetfulness.  Or,  if  he  be 
piscatorially  inclined,  boats,  tackle  and  bait  will  be 
provided  at  moderate  charges. 

Nestling  in  the  groves,  "God's  first  temples,"  are 
limpid  streams  that  purl  softly  over  their  mossy  beds 
or  sing  tender  lullabys  as  they  ripple  adown  the 
pebbly  inclines.  May  Ransom,  the  blithe  poetess  of 
Bradbury,  visited  Lake  Wautenon  two  years  ago, 
and  while  under  the  spell  of  its  varied  charms  wrote 
these  lines: 

"Most  beauteous  home  I  ever  knew, 
And  one  that  is  so  restful,  too." 

Truly  spoken,  for  any  one  who  has  lingered  in  the 
cool,  deep  shade  of  Wautenon 's  shore  or  partaken  of 
the  true  hospitality  at  the  magnificent  hostelry  will 
thereafter  cherish  the  memory  in  his  or  her  heart  of 
hearts. 

The  dentist  showed  this  circular  to  Doc', 
and  gave  his  suspicion. 

"She  had  something  to  do  with  sending 
it,"  he  said.  "They  don't  know  me  up  at 
Lake  Wautenon. ' ' 

"And  you  say  you  didn't  answer  her 
letter?"  inquired  Doc'.  "That's  bad — too 
bad." 

"I  didn't  see  any  confounded  use  in  keep- 
ing up  a  correspondence  after  what  you  told 
me.  I  thought  it  would  be  better  for  me  not 


2i8  DOC    HORNE 

to  go  ahead,  so  I  stopped  the  only  way  I 
knew  how.  I  simply  stopped.  I  didn't 
answer  her  letter.  And  it  was  a  low-down, 
mean  way  to  end  the  whole  business,  too. 
Darned  if  I  ain't  ashamed  of  myself.  Oh, 
well,  I'll  never  see  her  again.  I  suppose 
she'll  think  I've  turned  out  to  be  a  pretty 
cheap  specimen.  Oh,  well!  What's  the 
difference?  It's  all  right." 

He  was  as  cheerful  as  a  man  speaking 
from  the  gallows. 

Doc'  had  been  slow  of  perception  during 
the  previous  talks  with  his  friend,  but  now 
he  understood  that  the  dentist  was  very 
much  in  love  with  Miss  Milbury.  How- 
ever, as  the  dentist  did  not  seem  dis- 
posed to  admit  it,  even  if  he  knew  it, 
Doc'  did  not  offer  his  services  as  a  reconcil- 
ing agent. 

For  many  weeks  after  that,  the  dentist  did 
not  mention  the  name  of  Miss  Milbury,  and 
he  never  spoke  of  matrimony  except  to 
damn  it.  He  came  into  his  partnership  in 
the  Neapolitan  Dental  Parlors,  and  he 
moved  into  the  largest  front  room  in  the 
Alfalfa  Hotel.  The  prosperity  which  had 
justified  his  intention  to  marry  was  growing, 
but  he  seemed  less  cheerful  than  before. 


HIS    LAST   CHANCE  219 

The   waistcoats  and   cravats    were  changed 
less  frequently. 

Doc'  was  again  deceived.  He  believed  that 
the  dentist  had  lapsed  into  indifference,  and 
he  began  to  doubt  that  the  dentist  had  loved 
deeply,  even  during  July  and  August. 


CHAPTER    XX 


THE    REFORMATION    OF    THE    LUSH 

After  months  of  delicate  persuasion  Doc' 
accomplished  a  purpose.  He  induced  the 
lush  to  promise  to  refrain  from  all  drinking 
for  the  period  of  one  month.  In  making 

this  promise  the  lush 
did  not  admit  that  he 
had  been  drinking 
too  much  or  that  any 
change  in  his  daily 
habits  was  necessary. 
He  gave  the  promise 
merely  to  oblige 
Doc'. 

"You  seem  anx- 
ious to  make  a  good 
boy  out  of  me,  Doc'," 
he  said.  "Some- 
times when  you  give 
me  these  sermonettes 
on  the  quiet  I  begin  to  think  I'm  a  reg- 
ular drunkard." 

"Not  at  all,  my  dear  sir,  but  I  wouldn't  be 

220 


"DELICATE    PERSUASION. 


THE  REFORMATION  221 

surprised  if  you  did,  occasionally,  drink  a 
little  more  than  is  good  for  you." 

"Do  you  think  so,  Doc'?"  asked  the  lush, 
tapping  on  the  arm  of  his  chair  and  not  lift- 
ing his  eyes  when  he  asked  the  question. 

"I  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  drink  to 
excess,"  explained  Doc';  "but  I  think  it 
possible  that  if  you  would  practically  abstain 
from  drinking  for  a  while  your  general 
health  might  improve,  and  possibly  your 
nerves  would  be  steadier. ' ' 

"Well,  I  don't  know;  it  doesn't  seem  to 
me  I've  been  drinking  more  than  usual. 
I've  been  accustomed,  for  some  time,  to  take 
a  drink  whenever  I  felt  like  it. " 

"That's  true,  but  possibly  your  system 
isn't  as  hardy  as  it  used  to  be.  You  take 
my  advice.  Don't  touch  a  drop  of  it,  for — 
say,  a  month." 

The  lush  drew  a  long  whistle. 

"Do  you  know  what  you're  asking  me  to 
do?"  he  said. 

"You're  like  every  other  man,  I  suppose? 
You  can  drink  it  or  you  can  leave  it  alone." 

"Well,  Doc',  I'll  go  and  get  a  final  one 
right  now,  and  that'll  be  the  last  one  for  a 
month.  And  when  I  say  a  month  I  mean 
it.  It's  a  go!" 


222  DOC'    HORNE 

He  meant  it,  too.  The  dentist,  the 
freckled  boy,  and  even  the  book-agent 
smiled  and  were  skeptical  when  he  told  of 
his  resolution.  Their  apparent  contempt 
maddened  him,  and  made  him  all  the  more 
determined. 

The  first  week  was  full  of  misery  for  him. 
He  was  glum  and  solitary,  avoiding  the 
night  sessions  at  the  front  door.  He  made 
many  trips  to  the  corner  drug-store  and 
tried  to  get  cheer  from  phosphates  and  other 
temperance  drinks.  Failing  in  this  effort, 
he  would  return  to  his  room.  He  resented 
all  friendly  speech,  even  though  it  came 
from  Doc'. 

One  Sunday  the  dentist  was  passing  the 
door  when  he  heard  groans  and  profane 
exclamations.  Being  rather  frightened,  he 
knocked. 

"Come  in!"  shouted  the  lush. 

The  dentist  opened  the  door  and  saw  his 
friend  coiled  on  the  bed.  The  shoes,  coat 
and  vest  had  been  removed.  The  lush  had 
his  head  butted  into  a  soft  pillow. 

'Feeling  rocky?"  asked  the  dentist,  in  a 
gentle  tone. 

"No — feeling  fine,"  replied  the  lush,  glar- 
ing up  at  him. 


THE  REFORMATION  223 

"What  can  I  do  for  you?" 

"Go  get  an  ax  and  hit  me  in  the  head. 
Oh-h!  Gosh!" 

"Can  you  eat  anything?" 

"Yes,  certainly.  I  just  had  two  sponge 
cakes  and  a  gallon  of  lemonade.  Eat  any- 
thing? I  look  like  a  man  that  wants  to  eat, 
don't  I?" 

"Where  does  it  pain  you  the  most?" 

"Nowhere!  You  don't  think  I'm  in  pain, 
do  you?" 

There  was  a  timid  knock  at  the  door,  and 
the  lush  yelled,  "Come  in!" 

The  bellboy  slipped  in  softly  and  asked: 
"Did  you  ring?" 

The  lush  sat  up  on  the  bed  and  glared  at 
the  boy,  who  began  to  tremble. 

"How  long  does  it  take  electricity  to 
travel?"  he  asked. 

"Huh?"  from  the  boy. 

"Huh?  When  I  push  this  button  up  here, 
does  it  take  twenty  minutes  for  the  bell  to 
ring  downstairs?" 

"I  don't  know,  sir." 

"You  don't  know?  How  does  it  happen 
that  you  came  up  here  at  all?" 

"The  clerk  sent  me  up." 

"Oh,  he  did,  did  he?     Well,  you  tell  that 


224 


DOC'    HORNE 


clerk  that  when  I  ring  I  want  somebody  to 
come  here  the  same  day.     Do  you  under- 
stand?" 
"Yes,  sir." 

"Well,  what  is  it  I  told  you  to  tell  him?" 
"Why— that  when 

you "     The     boy 

became  confused  and 
was  unable  to  say  any 
more. 

"That's  right  !  " 
exclaimed  the  lush. 
"You've  got  a  great 
memory." 

"Oh,  leave  the  boy 
alone,"  said  the  den- 
tist, interfering  as 
mildly  as  he  could. 

"I'll  have  to  write 
it  out,"  snarled  the 
lush.  "Say,  if  you  can  remember  it  till  you 
get  downstairs,  tell  that  cheap  clerk  to  send 
into  the  drug-store  and  get  me  a  small 
bottle  of  Jamaica  ginger." 

"Yes,  sir;  is  that  all?"  asked  the  boy, 
moving  toward  the  door,  as  if  anxious  to 
escape. 

"Then   when   you   get  that,   you  go  and 


"WHENEVER  i  FELT  LIKE  IT." 


THE  REFORMATION  225 

jump  down  the  elevator-shaft."  Having 
thus  delivered  himself,  he  plowed  his  head 
into  the  pillow  once  more,  kicked  con- 
vulsively and  let  out  one  long,  lingering, 
quavering  groan  of  the  most  intense  agony. 
Then  he  flopped  over  on  the  bed,  threw 
one  of  the  pillows  into  the  air,  and  began  to 
sing  in  a  husky,  trembling  voice : 

"Be  it  ev-er  so  hum-bul, 
There's  no-ho  place  like  home." 

After  this  he  put  his  head  under  the  pil- 
low and  lay  very  quiet  for  several  moments, 
apparently  to  induce  the  dentist  to  believe 
that  the  end  had  come. 

There  was  another  tap  at  the  door,  and 
the  dentist  said,  "Come  in!" 

It  was  the  chambermaid. 

She  came  into  the  room,  and  then  said, 
very  timidly:  "I  wondered  if  he  wanted  me 
to  tidy  up  the  room  for  him." 

4 Til  ask  him,"  said  the  dentist. 

The  lush  still  had  the  pillow  over  his  head 
and  he  pretended  not  to  hear.  This  fright- 
ened the  chambermaid,  who  said:  "Good- 
ness me !  Poor  man ! ' ' 

"What  the  dickens  do  you  want?"  He 
came  out  from  under  the  pillow  very  sud- 


226  DOC    HORNE 

denly,  with  his  hair  rumpled.  When  he 
saw  the  chambermaid  standing  at  the  door- 
way, he  looked  at  her  so  ferociously  that  she 
was  alarmed  and  began  to  back  away. 

"The  girl  wants  to  know  if  she  can  clean 
up  the  room  a  little." 

"I  don't  care  what  she  does.  Tell  her  to 
go  ahead  and  make  the  bed,  and  not  mind 
me.  I  don't  s'pose  I've  got  any  right  in 
this  room  even  if  I  do  pay  for  it,  have  I?" 

"Well,  the  girl  simply  wanted  to  know." 

"You  tell  her  to  come  in  and  take  up  the 
carpet  if  she  wants  to.  Ooh-h-h-h!" 

"I'll  come  back  after  a  while,"  said  the 
pale  chambermaid,  backing  out  of  the  room. 

"Why  don't  you  have  the  girl  fix  up  the 
room  a  little?"  asked  the  dentist. 

"Why  are  you  worrying  about  that  girl? 
Is  she  a  friend  of  yours?  Because,  if  it's  any 
accommodation  to  you,  I  can  go  out  and  sit 
in  the  bath-tub  while  she  fixes  up  the  room. 
I  don't  see  that  I've  got  anything  to  say 
about  it,  anyway.  Come  in!"  This  last 
was  delivered  in  a  shriek. 

The  frightened  bellboy  came  in  on  tiptoe, 
carrying  a  bottle  wrapped  in  pink  paper. 
He  mumbled  something  about  ginger. 

"Well,  give  it  to  me,"  exclaimed  the  lush. 


THE  REFORMATION  227 

"What  are  you  holding  it  for?  I'm  the  one 
that's  going-  to  take  this  ginger.  You  didn't 
buy  it  for  yourself,  did  you?" 

"No,  sir,"  replied  the  boy,  meekly. 

"Great  Scott!"  he  shouted,  when  he 
pulled  away  the  paper  and  saw  the  four- 
ounce  bottle  of  ginger.  "Why  didn't  you 
bring  this  in  a  bucket?" 

"Huh?" 

"Huh?  The  next  time  I  order  ginger 
you  tell  the  clerk  to  have  it  sent  up  in  a 
barrel.  Did  you  think  I  wanted  to  bathe  in 
ginger?  Of  all  the  idiots  I  ever  saw,  this 
hotel  is  swarming  with  'em.  You  tell  the 
clerk  I'm  going  to  drink  two  or  three  quarts 
of  this  ginger  and  use  the  rest  to  wash  the 
windows  with.  You  just  tell  him  that  for 
me.  And  sometime  this  afternoon,  if  you 
haven't  got  anything  else  to  do  and  you  feel 
well  at  the  time,  you  might  bring  me  a 
pitcher  of  water — and  be  sure  it's  full  of 
microbes." 

"Full  of  what?"  asked  the  terror-stricken 
boy. 

"Microbes!  Will  you  remember  that?  I 
want  plenty  of  microbes. " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"And  don't  forget  about  jumping  down 


228  DOC'    HORNE 

the  elevator-shaft.  You  know  you  promised 
me  to  do  that." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Well,  what  are  you  waiting  for?" 

"Oh!"  and  the  boy  escaped. 

The  lush  once  more  put  his  head  under 
the  pillow  and  began  to  groan.  The  den- 
tist said:  "Well,  good-by;  I'm  glad  to  find 
you  so  amiable, "  and  he  followed  the  bell- 
boy. Just  as  he  left  the  room  he  thought 
he  heard,  from  under  the  pillow,  something 
like  "Go  to  blazes!" 

After  nearly  two  weeks  of  abstinence  the 
lush  spent  less  time  in  his  room,  and  was 
more  companionable,  sometimes  sitting  with 
the  others  of  an  evening,  although  he  had 
little  to  say.  He  was  irritable  and  the 
freckled  boy's  loud  conversation  annoyed 
him.  With  the  others  he  was  serious,  but 
not  discourteous.  Doc'  hoped  that  the 
reformation  would  be  for  all  time. 

The  lush  might  never  have  taken  another 
drink  if  he  had  not  been  subjected  to  a  most 
unusual  temptation  when  Doc'  was  arrested 
on  the  only  criminal  charge  ever  brought 
against  a  Home. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

HOW     HE     THWARTED     T&E     ST.    LOUIS     ROBBERS 

The  first  cool  weather  of  autumn  hurries 
the  tramp  population  into  Chicago.  The 
wandering  beggars  who  have  infested 


"WROTE  MY  ST.    LOUIS  ADDRESS   ON  THE  ENVELOPE." 

country  lanes  and  ridden  on  car-trucks  dur- 
229 


230  DOC'    HORNE 

ing  the  summer,  flock  into  the  city.  They 
assemble  at  the  basement  drinking  places  in 
the  squalid  "levee"  district  by  day  and  at 
night  they  creep  into  ten-cent  lodging 
houses  or  lie  in  dark  stairways.  When  they 
tell  their  stories  to  doubting  pedestrians 
they  are  workingmen  who  have  sought  jobs 
for  many  days  and  are  dying  of  hunger. 
Some  who  are  not  too  much  weakened  in 
body  and  spirit  demand  the  money  which 
they  cannot  get  by  beggary.  Cold  weather 
stings  them  to  desperation,  and  the  cringing 
"hobo"  becomes  the  "desperate  robber" 
so  frequently  mentioned  by  the  police  re- 
porter. 

After  a  week  of  frosty  nights  the  news- 
papers spoke  of  the  "annual  carnival  of 
crime,"  and  the  colony  at  the  Alfalfa  Hotel 
had  several  meetings  to  discuss  the  footpad 
and  criticise  the  police  department. 

One  evening  Doc'  told  of  his  experience 
with  highway  robbers.  The  bicycle  sales- 
man had  been  reading  an  evening  paper, 
and  when  he  lowered  it  he  said:  "Well, 
what  do  you  think  of  that?  Here's  a  fellow 
that  went  into  a  house  right  in  the  broad  of 
day  and  choked  a  woman  and  got  away  with 
all  the  money  and  jewelry." 


ST.    LOUIS    ROBBERS  231 

"That's  nothing — for  Chicago,"  said  the 
lush.  "Over  here  on  the  west  side  they  went 
into  a  house  while  the  family  was  in  the 
dining-room,  and  moved  out  all  the  furniture 
in  the  parlor,  including  the  piano.  They 
left  the  carpets,  I  believe. ' ' 

"When  was  that?"  asked  the  bicycle 
youth. 

"Oh,  most  any  old  time.  I  can't  remem- 
ber the  dates  of  all  the  robberies  in  Chi- 
cago. ' ' 

The  dentist  confessed  that  he  had  been 
caught  at  the  dark  entrance  to  an  alley  and 
compelled  to  surrender  a  watch  and  a 
pocketbook  containing  $48.  Two  men  had 
done  the  job,  one  of  them  holding  a  large 
revolver  close  to  his  head. 

"If  a  man  gets  the  drop  on  you,  the  only 
thing  to  do  is  to  keep  cool  and  make  no 
resistance,"  said  Doc'  Home.  "You  should 
have  crossed  the  street  when  you  saw  the  two 
men  coming  over  toward  you.  That  would 
have  shown  that  you  suspected  them,  and 
they  wouldn't  have  taken  a  chance  in  follow- 
ing you  back  across  the  street.  There's 
nearly  always  some  way  of  outwitting  a 
footpad  if  you  only  keep  cool  and  use  your 
head.  Three  of  them  had  me  cornered 


DOC'    HORNE 

once,  and  thought  they  were  going  to  get 
$2,500,  but  I  fooled  them  just  the  same." 

"Was  that  in  Chicago?"  asked  the  dentist. 

"No,  that  was  in  St.  Louis,  a  long  time 
ago — shortly  after  the  war.  The  fellows 
who  were  after  me  knew  that  I  had  the 
money,  and  I  had  to  do  some  maneuvering 
to  beat  them.  I  had  been  there  in  St.  Louis 
several  weeks  negotiating  some  business  for 
New  York  parties,  and  in  that  time  I  had 
become  pretty  well  acquainted  with  the 
moneyed  men  around  town,  who,  at  that 
time,  were  inclined  to  be  rather  sporty.  I 
gambled  occasionally,  myself.  One  night  I 
went  into  the  largest  gambling  house  with  a 
friend  of  mine  and  began  to  play  roulette. 
It's  a  game  I  seldom  played,  but  I  had  a 
fancy  to  play  it  this  night.  Well,  I  lost 
$500  almost  as  fast  as  I  could  buy  chips. 
Finally,  I  had  five  dollars'  worth  of  white 
chips  left,  and  I  pushed  them  over  on  the 
double-o,  and,  much  to  my  surprise,  the 
double-o  came.  That  was  the  turn  of  my 
luck.  Within  an  hour  I  had  $3,000  in  front 
of  me.  I  lost  back  to  $2,500  and  cashed  in. 
The  dealer  had  to  give  me  an  order  on  the 
proprietor,  and  as  I  didn't  want  to  carry 
small  bills,  he  gave  me  two  $1,000  bills  and 


ST.   LOUIS    ROBBERS          233 

one  $500  bill.  He  said  he'd  keep  the  money 
in  the  safe  for  me,  but  I  was  accustomed  to 
handling  large  sums,  so  I  just  took  the  bills 
and  put  them  in  my  vest  pocket.  My  friend 
and  I  left  the  place.  I  walked  with  him  to 
the  corner,  and  then  started  for  home — I 
then  had  apartments  in  a  private  house. 

"On  my  way  home  I  had  to  pass  through 
the  wholesale  district.  It  was  a  business 
part  of  town — very  dark  and  lonesome  at 
night,  But  I  had  a  revolver  and  never 
thought  of  such  a  thing  as  being  robbed. 
Well,  sir,  I  hadn't  walked  a  block  from 
the  corner  at  which  I  had  left  my  friend, 
until  I  saw  two  men  ahead  of  me  about  half 
or  two-thirds  of  a  block.  I  saw  them  pass 
under  a  lamp,  and  just  as  they  did  so  they 
turned  to  see  if  I  was  coming.  While  I  was 
watching  them  closely,  determined  that  they 
shouldn't  catch  me  napping,  I  heard  foot- 
falls behind  me,  and  I  knew  that  two  men 
were  following  me.  Then  I  began  to 
appreciate  my  situation.  If  I  hurried,  the 
men  in  front  would  stop  me.  If  I  turned 
back,  the  two  men  behind  would  intercept 
me.  They  were  so  close  to  me  that  I  could 
not  escape  into  a  side  street  except  by  run- 
ning, and  then  they  would  have  a  chance  to 


234  DOC'   HORNE 

shoot  at  me  from  behind.  If  there  was  to 
be  any  shooting  done,  I  wanted  to  be  faced 
around  and  have  a  hand  in  it.  You  can 
understand  my  predicament.  Their  plan 
was,  evidently,  for  the  two  men  in  front  to 
slacken  their  pace  so  that  I  would  catch  up 
with  them,  and  the  two  men  coming"  up 
behind,  they  would  have  me  surrounded, 
four  men  to  one.  They  evidently  believed 
they  would  have  a  tough  job  or  there 
wouldn't  have  been  four  men  in  it.  I  felt 
sure  that  I  could  kill  one  or  two  of  them 
if  it  came  to  shooting,  but  I  didn't  see  much 
chance  to  escape  if  four  of  them  opened  up 
on  me. 

"I  had  to  do  something  mighty  quick,  and 
I  made  up  my  mind  in  a  flash.  I  reached  in 
my  inside  pocket,  where  I  always  carried 
some  stamped  envelopes,  and  pulled  one  of 
them  out.  I  slipped  the  money  into  the 
envelope,  and  then,  taking  my  card-case  out 
of  my  pocket,  so  as  to  have  something  on 
which  to  rest  the  letter,  I  felt  for  my  pencil. 
It  wasn't  there!  I  remembered  that  I  had 
loaned  it  to  a  fellow  in  the  gambling-room. 
Do  you  know  what  I  did?  I  stopped  right 
under  a  street  lamp  that  had  a  mail-box 
attached  to  it,  and  yelled  to  those  fellows  in 


ST.   LOUIS    ROBBERS  235 

front  and  asked :  'Either  of  you  got  a  pencil?' 
They  stopped,  and  seemed  to  be  in  doubt 
about  coming  back,  but  they  evidently  didn't 
want  to  arouse  my  suspicions,  so  one  of 
them  walked  back  and  asked  me  what  I 
wanted.  I  told  him  I  wanted  a  pencil.  In 
the  meantime  the  fellows  who  had  been 
following  behind  had  stopped  to  see  what 
was  going  to  happen.  They  were  prob- 
ably surprised  to  see  me  call  this  fellow 
back.  As  for  him,  he  didn't  know  what  to 
do.  I  told  him  I  wanted  to  mail  a  letter, 
and  had  forgotten  part  of  the  address  and 
wanted  to  put  it  on,  as  it  was  important 
that  the  letter  should  be  in  the  mail  the  first 
thing  in  the  morning.  The  explanation 
seemed  to  satisfy  him.  He  came  up  to  me, 
handed  me  a  stub  of  pencil,  and  I  rested 
the  letter  on  the  card-case,  wrote  my  St. 
Louis -address  on  it  and  dropped  it  into  the 
mail-box.  It  was  a  big  chilled-steel  box, 
put  there  for  the  convenience  of  some  of 
the  wholesale  houses  that  sent  out  quan- 
tities of  mail. 

44  After  I  had  mailed  the  letter  I  said  to 
the  man  who  had  loaned  me  the  pencil: 
'Are  you  going  down  street?'  He  mumbled 
something  and  I  followed  along,  and  we 


236  DOC'    HORNE 

overtook  his  partner  in  front.  Presently  the 
two  men  behind  came  up,  and  the  five  of  us 
walked  along  in  silence.  It  was  a  darker 
part  of  the  street,  and  I  knew  they  were 
about  ready  to  state  their  business,  so  I 
stopped  all  of  a  sudden,  and  said:  'Gen'le- 
men,  what  can  I  do  for  you?'  They  were 
surprised,  but  a  big  fellow,  one  of  the  two 
who  had  been  behind,  said:  'You'd  better 
give  us  that  $2,500  if  you  want  to  get  home 
alive.'  I  replied  that  I  had  no  such  sum. 
'We  know  better,'  the  big  fellow  said.  'We 
saw  you  put  it  in  your  pocket  when  you  left 
the  gambling  house, '  and  he  started  to  come 
at  me.  'Hold  on,'  I  said.  'Don't  get 
excited.  It  is  true  that  I  had  $2,500,  but  I 
put  it  into  an  envelope  and  mailed  it  to 
myself  at  that  big  box  back  there.  One  of 
your  party  was  kind  enough  to  give  me  the 
pencil  with  which  I  wrote  the  address. ' 
Then  I  said  to  them:  'Gentlemen,  if  you 
want  that  money,  go  and  get  it  out  of  the 
mail-box.  If  you  think  you  can  break  into 
a  steel  box  which  is  on  a  corner,  under  a 
street  lamp,  and  not  get  into  trouble  with 
the  police,  why,  go  ahead  and  try  it. '  The 
big  fellow  cursed  and  began  to  threaten,  but 
I  said:  'It  won't  do  you  any  good  to  attack 


ST.    LOUIS    ROBBERS  237 

me.  You're  four  to  one,  but  I'll  kill  one  of 
you  before  you  can  get  me  out  of  the  way. ' 
Then  one  of  the  fellows  said:  'What's  the 
use,  boys?  He's  too  slick  for  us.'  The  four 
simply  turned  and  walked  away,  and  I  went 
on  home.  Next  morning  when  I  reached 
the  office,  there  was  my  letter  with  the 
$2,500  in  it,  lying  on  the  desk  with  the  other 
mail." 

"Well,  I'll  be  dog-goned!"  exclaimed  the 
bicycle  youth.  "Say,  what  would  you  have 
done  if  that  fellow  hadn't  let  you  have  the 
pencil?" 

"I'd  have  put  in  the  envelope  without  any 
address  on  it.  I  could  have  proved  my 
property  at  the  postoffice  next  day.  My 
principal  object  in  borrowing  the  pencil  was 
to  throw  those  fellows  off  their  guard  and 
make  them  think  I  didn't  suspect  anything." 


CHAPTER   XXII 


THE   STORY    OF    OKOBONEE 

The  man  who  brought  upon  Doc'  Home 
the  extreme  humiliation  of  his  life  was 
known  at  the  Alfalfa  Hotel  as  the  hustler. 
In  the  United  States 
of  America  a  hustler 
is  one  who  is  busy, 
persistent,  resource- 
ful and  combative, 
usually  that  he  may 
accumulate  money. 
The  term  is  fre- 
quently applied  to 
one  who  talks  rapidly 
and  deals  with  large 
figures.  Hustling 
may  be  activity  or 
the  semblance  of  ac- 

THE   HUSTLER.  tlVlty. 

The  hustler  at  the 

hotel  was  a  slender  young  man  with  reddish 

hair   and  a   close  mustache.      He    wore    a 

238 


THE  STORY  OF  OKOBONEE  239 

business  suit  of  gray.  His  black  derby  hat 
was  set  on  the  back  of  the  head. 

When  the  members  of  the  colony  first 
noticed  him  he  was  sitting  in  the  office 
adding  up  figures  in  a  memorandum  book 
and  whistling  below  his  breath.  His  coat 
sleeves  were  pulled  up,  so  as  to  expose  the 
full  width  of  cuff.  Presently  he  put  away 
the  memorandum  book  and  took  from  the 
inside  pocket  of  his  coat  a  loose  handful  of 
letters.  He  sorted  them  and  finally  found  a 
sheet  on  which  was  a  pencil  drawing.  The 
members  of  the  colony  were  watching  him. 

After  the  hustler  had  regarded  the  pencil 
drawing  at  arm's  length  he  handed  it  toward 
Doc'  Home,  and  asked:  "How  would  that 
look  in  three  colors?" 

"Eh — what?"  exclaimed  Doc',  much 
astonished. 

"The  line  at  the  top,  'Champion  Tablets' 
— blue,  understand?  Same  as  the  ketch-line 
below,  'Knocks  the  wind  out  of  you.'  I 
think  I'll  have  this  framework  in  solid  black, 
and  use  the  red  for  the  punchin'  bag  and  the 
man's  head.  I'm  goin'  to  have  a  picture  of 
a  prize-fighter  in  there,  punchin'  the  bag. 
Good  scheme,  eh?" 

"Well,  I  don't  know  that  I  exactly  under- 


240  DOC'    HORNE 

stand  this,"  said  Doc',  bringing  out  his 
spectacles  so  as  to  make  a  critical  study  of 
the  drawing. 

"It's  a  little  preparation,  tablet  form,  that 
a  certain  party  here  in  Chicago  has  just  got 
up.  I've  taken  hold  of  it  and  I'm  goin'  to 
push  it  for  him.  This  is  the  name  of  it  up 
here  at  the  top,  'Champion  Tablets,'  and  at 
the  bottom  here  we  have  the  ketch-line, 
'Knocks  the  wind  out  of  you.'  ' 

"Well,  what  are  they  good  for?"  asked  the 
lightning  dentist,  who  had  arisen  and  was 
looking  over  Doc's  shoulder. 

"Just  what  it  says  there.  To  be  taken 
after  hearty  eating — removes  that  feeling  of 
fullness,  understand?  Good  for  children 
with  the  colic,  dyspeptics,  and  any  one  who 
has  stomach-ache,  cramps  —  great  thing! 
Picture  of  a  prize-fighter,  understand? 
That'll  ketch  'em.  They'll  stop  to  look  at 
that.  Then  they  read  this,  'Champion 
Tablets,'  and  below,  the  ketch-line,  'Knocks 
the  wind  out  of  you.'  I'm  goin'  to  have 
down  here  in  this  corner  what  the  tablets 
can  cure." 

"Will  you  have  room  in  the  corner?" 
asked  the  lush,  who  had  been  listening  in 
coldness  and  doubt, 


THE  STORY  OF  OKOBONEE  241 

"Oh,  yes;  I'll  get  it  in  there  in  black," 
said  the  hustler,  who  had  not  caught  the 
sarcasm  of  the  question.  "That's  goin'  to 
make  a  ketchy  thing,"  and  he  took  the 
drawing  away  from  Doc'  and  again  held  it 
at  arm's  length.  "Get  a  twenty-four  sheet 
stand  of  that  and  it'll  scream.  I  was  around 
to-day  figurin'  on  a  hundred  thousand  single 
sheets  to  put  on  the  fences  and  boards. 
We're  goin'  to  place  a  lot  of  newspaper 
advertising,  too,  but  we  don't  want  to  do 
that  till  we  get  enough  stock  to  send 
samples  to  all  the  druggists.  We  expect  to 
reach  every  druggist  in  the  United  States 
within  six  weeks.  And  say,  gentlemen," 
putting  the  picture  back  into  his  pocket, 
"I've  got  the  greatest  scheme  for  advertising 
this  preparation  that  you  ever  heard  of. 
What  do  you  think  of  advertising  with 
elephants?" 

"Elephants?  How  do  you  mean?"  asked 
the  lightning  dentist. 

"Why,  I  mean  elephants.  You  under- 
stand— a  party  gets  up  a  new  preparation 
and  wants  to  introduce  it  to  the  trade — he 
sends  out  his  men  to  distribute  samples. 
Sometimes  they  send  'em  out  in  open  car- 
riages with  white  horses.  Sometimes  they 


242  DOC'    HORNE 

dress  'em  up  and  have  'em  carry  banners. 
All  them  things  is  out  of  date.  I've  got  the 
only  scheme  on  earth — send  'em  out  ridin' 
on  top  of  elephants.  Huh?  How  about  that?  ' 

"Well,  where  are  you  going  to  get  your 
elephants?"  asked  the  dentist. 

"I  know  where  I  can  get  six.  That'd  be 
enough  to  start  on. ' ' 

"Yes,  I  should  think  six  elephants  would 
be  enough  for  a  starter, ' '  remarked  the  lush. 
"Enough  for  a  fair  mess." 

"Of  course,  I  wouldn't  buy  'em,"  said  the 
hustler.  "I'd  pay  so  much  for  the  use  of  'em. 
I  put  my  man  on  top  of  the  elephant,  under- 
stand? He's  all  togged  out-— long-tailed  coat, 
plug  hat  and  all  that — got  a  rose  in  his  button- 
hole. He'll  ride  in  one  of  these  covered 
things,  understand?  I'll  have  another  man 
— from  the  circus — to  sit  up  on  the  ele- 
phant's head  and  carry  this  big  banner, 
'Champion  Tablets.'  Then  I'll  have 
another  fellow — from  the  circus — to  lead  the 
elephant.  Go  up  to  drug-store ;  this  fellow 
on  top  carries  a  kind  of  ladder  and  comes 
down,  walks  into  the  drug-store,  presents  his 
card,  hands  the  druggist  a  box  of  sample 
packages  and  walks  out.  He  don't  try  to 
sell  anything,  understand?  Let  the  sales- 


THE  STORY  OF  OKOBONEE  243 

man  go  around  later  on,  understand?  All 
we  want  to  do  at  the  start  is  to  get  people 
to  talkin'.  I'll  tell  you  that  if  we  start  out 
six  elephants  in  Chicago  we'll  wake  up  the 
whole  town.  It'll  cost  ten  thousand  before 
we  take  in  a  cent,  but  it'll  do  the  work." 

"I  don't  believe  the  city  authorities  would 
allow  you  to  take  elephants  through  the 
street,"  suggested  the  book-agent,  staring 
thoughtfully  at  the  hustler. 

"They  wouldn't,  eh?"  demanded  the 
hustler.  "Why  wouldn't  they?  Don't  they 
let  a  circus  parade,  huh?  If  they  stopped 
me,  do  you  know  what  I'd  do?  I'd  apply 
for  an  injunction  and  take  the  case  into  the 
courts.  I'd  get  advertising  out  of  it  some 
wa)T.  They  might  stop  me,  but  I'd  have 
everybody  talking  about  'Champion  Tab- 
lets.' Do  you  know  what  I'm  goin'  to  do 
with  one  of  them  elephants?  I  know  where 
I  can  find  the  man  that  painted  the  white 
elephant  for  Barnum.  I'm  goin'  to  have 
him  paint  one  of  the  elephants  red,  white 
and  blue  in  stripes,  all  except  on  the  sides, 
and  there  I'm  goin'  to  have  'Champion 
Tablets'  in  big  letters,  black  on  white. 
What  do  you  think  of  that?" 

"Don't  you  go  to  leading  any  red,  white 


244  DOC'    HORNE 

and  blue  elephants  past  this  hotel,"  said  the 
lush.  "I  saw  a  green  one  with  pink  legs  go 
past  one  night  and  I  didn't  get  over  it  for  a 
week." 

"An  elephant  is  not  dangerous  if  he  is 
properly  handled,"  said  Doc'  Home.  "I 
remember  distinctly " 

Doubtless  the  company  would  have  had 
an  elephant-taming  story  had  not  the  fire 
engine  come  thundering  around  the  corner. 
The  colony  went  out  to  the  street  with  the 
hope  that  there  would  be  a  successful  fire 
somewhere  in  the  neighborhood,  but  not  too 
near  the  Alfalfa.  It  was  disappointed. 

Next  night  the  hustler  happened  to  be  sit- 
ting near  when  Doc'  told  the  book-agent 
about  the  Indian  herb  treatment.  For  a 
week  or  more  the  book-agent  had  com- 
plained of  an  aguish  sensation.  He  sat  near 
the  steam-heater,  with  his  coat  collar  turned 
up,  and  took  little  part  in  the  conversation, 
now  and  then  interjecting  something  doleful 
in  the  way  of  verse. 

"I  was  just  thinking,"  began  Doc'  Home, 
gazing  at  his  friend  as  if  in  solicitude,  "that 
if  all  the  ingredients  were  accessible  I  could 
prepare  you  a  mixture  that  would  set  you 
right  in  twenty-four  hours.  So  far  as  I  can 


THE  STORY  OF  OKOBONEE  245 

judge  from  your  appearance  you  are  suffer- 
ing from  malaria,  and  possibly  you  are 
weakened  by  some  nervous  strain.  I  don't 
know  where  I  could  get  the  herbs  or  I'd  fix 
up  something  for  you." 

"Can't  you  get  them  at  the  drug-store?" 
asked  the  bicycle  youth. 

"I'm  afraid  not.  Some  of  the  herbs  are 
very  rare.  Did  I  ever  tell  you  of  how  I 
happened  to  learn  the  secret  of  that  Indian 
remedy?" 

The  hustler,  who  had  been  pulling  letters 
out  of  his  pockets  and  then  putting  them  back 
again,  squared  around  and  listened  alertly. 

"It  was  on  my  first  or  second  visit  to  this 
part  of  the  country,"  said  Doc'.  "I  did  a 
great  deal  of  overland  traveling  about  that 
time,  and  up  near  Waukegan,  on  one  of  my 
excursions,  I  met  a  very  interesting  old 
Indian  doctor  named  Okobonee,  which 
means  'voice  of  the  night,'  as  it  was  sup- 
posed that  this  medicine  man  went  into  the 
forest  at  night  and  held  communication  with 
the  Great  Spirit.  The  circumstances  of  our 
meeting  were  rather  peculiar.  I  was  on 
horseback  and  overtook  him  hobbling 
through  the  woods.  It  seemed  that  he  had 
climbed  a  tree  in  order  to  pluck  some  of  the 


246 


DOC'  HORNE 


green  leaves  growing  at  the  extremities  of 
the  branches — and,  by  the  way,  these  leaves 
happen  to  be  one  of  the  ingredients  of  the 
remedy  of  which  I  have  spoken.  He  had 
climbed  the  tree  and  had  crawled  out  to  get 
these  tender  leaves, 
which  were  full  of  the 
vegetable  juice,  and 
in  so  doing  he  lost 
his  hold  and  fell  to 
the  ground,  turning 
his  ankle.  He  was 
quite  lame  when  I 
overtook  him.  I  dis- 
mounted and  assisted 
him  to  get  on  my 
horse,  and  we  pro- 
ceeded to  his  cabin, 
or  tepee,  as  you  might  call  it.  He  was  very 
grateful  to  me,  and  insisted  that  I  should 
remain  with  him  over  night.  I  did  so — in 
fact,  I  remained  several  days,  for  I  found 
him  a  very  interesting  character.  He 
taught  me  how  to  collect  and  prepare  the 
ingredients  for  this  rerqedy,  to  which  I  have 
referred.  It  seemed  that  this  remedy  had 
been  famous  among  the  Indians  for  years. 
I  took  away  quite  a  bundle  of  the  herbs  and 


"I  WAS  JUST  THINKING. 


THE  STORY  OF  OKOBONEE  247 

leaves  with  me,  and  after  I  got  back  to  Chi- 
cago I  studied  out  their  botanical  names  and 
made  up  a  rough  formula  of  the  compound. 
I  used  it  with  remarkable  success,  occasion- 
ally; but,  as  I  say,  I  can't  prepare  it  unless 
I  get  out  in  the  woods  and  find  the  ingredi- 
ents. You  can't  buy  them. " 

"Say,  Doc',  you're  foolish,"  said  the 
hustler,  pulling  up  his  coat  sleeves.  "See 
here!  If  you've  got  that  remedy  you're  a 
sucker  not  to  do  something  with  it,  and  I'll 
tell  you  why. ' ' 

"Oh,  I  don't  want  to  go  into  the  patent- 
medicine  business,"  said  Doc',  smiling  and 
shaking  his  head. 

"Oh,  rats!  There's  no  need  of  throwin' 
away  a  good  thing.  See  here!  Put  it  up 
in  packages — understand?  'Home's  Heal- 
ing Herbs' — one  big  H  to  do  for  all  three 
words.  Then  your  picture — the  goods 
would  sell  on  the  strength  of  your  picture — 
fine-looking,  gray-bearded  old  gentleman, 
with  the  autograph,  'Doc'  Home,'  below." 

"But  I'm  not  really  a  doctor?" 

"What's  the  difference?  Here,  I'll  tell 
you  what'd  be  better  still — your  picture  on 
one  side  and  the  picture  of  the  Indian  on  the 
other  side — what's  his  name?" 


248  DOC    HORNE 

"Okobonee,"  replied  Doc',  unwillingly. 

"  'The  secret  of  Okobonee  for  the  suc- 
coring of  humanity.'  What  I'm  stuck  on  is 
the  story  about  this  old  Indian,  and  how  you 
met  him  and  learned  the  secret.  That'd 
make  a  great  pamphlet.  Do  you  think  you 
could  put  us  on  to  the  formula  so  we  could 
make  the  stuff?" 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  Doc',  with  no  enthu- 
siasm. 

"Well,  that  wouldn't  be  so  important. 
We  could  fake  up  something,  but  the  name 
and  story  ketch  me.  'Home's  Healing 
Herbs'  —  'The  story  of  Okobonee's  secret,' 
and  all  that  kind  of  stuff.  Say,  Doc',  on  the 
dead,  I'd  like  to  talk  it  over  with  you,  and 
I'll  make  you  a  proposition.  We've  got  to 
have  you  in  so  we  can  use  the  big  H  and 
have  somebody  to  fasten  the  Indian  story  to. 
The  more  I  think  of  that  Indian  story  the 
better  I  like  it." 

"I'm  not  seeking  notoriety,"  said  Doc'. 
"If  that  was  all  I  wanted  I've  had  plenty  of 
chances  to  figure  in  the  newspapers.  You 
can  go  ahead  and  get  up  all  the  patent 
medicines  you  please,  but  I  can't  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  it." 

He  spoke    with  such    emphasis  that  the 


THE  STORY  OF  OKOBONEE  249 

hustler  said:  "Oh,  well,  if  you  feel  that 
way,  all  right,  but  just  the  same,  I  want  to 
talk  to  you  again  about  this  business." 

Two  days  later,  much  to  Doc's  surprise, 
the  hustler  came  with  drawings  and  type- 
written literature  intended  to  show  how 
"Home's  Healing  Herbs"  could  be  adver- 
tised. There  was  a  newspaper  "ad"  with  a 
big  H  and  a  sample  label  such  as  would  be 
placed  on  each  half-pound  package  of  the 
remedy.  The  label  had  pictures  of 
Okobonee,  with  war  bonnet  and  paint,  and 
"Doctor  Home"  with  long  whiskers.  The 
hustler  explained  to  Doc'  and  the  others  that 
the  "jays"  always  had  more  confidence  in  a 
doctor  with  long  chin  whiskers.  When  the 
drawings  were  passed  around  the  lush  con- 
gratulated Doc'  and  predicted  that  he  would 
make  a  fortune. 

"I  know  I  want  a  package  as  soon  as  you 
put  any  on  the  market,"  said  the  lush. 
"Doc's  picture  alone  is  worth  the  price." 

This  irritated  Doc',  but  encouraged  the 
hustler,  who  read  the  advertising  circular 
which  a  literary  friend  had  outlined  under 
his  direction: 

Strange  that  the  greatest  secret  of  the  nineteenth 
century  should  be  guarded  by  one  man  for  nearly 


250  DOC    HORNE 

fifty  years!  Strange  that  there  should  be  living 
to-day  an  eminent  physician  who  has  at  command  all 
the  mystic  knowledge  gathered  from  Nature  by  the 
medicine  men  of  the  aborigines !  Stranger  still  that 
the  priceless  remedy,  the  healing  herbs  of  Okobonee, 
should  be  freely  offered  to  suffering  humanity  by  the 
guardian  of  this  secret !  In  the  lonely  forest,  beneath 
the  rustling  trees,  where  every  whisper  through  the 
branches  was  as  the  voice  of  the  Great  Spirit, 
Okobonee,  the  healer  and  physician,  spent  many 
hours  in  study  of  Nature's  bountiful  resources.  He 
learned  the  manifold  secrets  of  vegetable  creation, 
and  out  of  his  knowledge  compounded  a  sovereign 
remedy  more  potent  than  any  drug  or  mineral  poison 
that  ever  came  from  the  laboratory  of  chemist.  He 
used  this  remedy  among  his  own  people — the  noble 
red  men  of  the  forest.  The  cures  were  marvelous — 
almost  miraculous.  The  fame  of  Okobonee  spread 
from  tribe  to  tribe,  and  all  the  sick  and  ailing  from 
far  and  near  came  to  receive  his  ministrations.  He 
waxed  old  in  the  service  of  humanity,  but  still  he 
continued  in  the  study  of  Nature  and  Truth. 

How  fortunate  that  his  knowledge  did  not  die  with 
him !  What  a  blessing  that  the  great  boon  was  not 
lost  to  mankind!  It  was  surely  nothing  else  than 
providence  that  directed  Doctor  Home,  the  eminent 
physician,  to  "visit  the  primeval  forest  in  which 
Okobonee  held  silent  commune  with  the  forces  of 
Nature,  and  that  greater  and  immutable  force  which 
the  savage  tribes  held  in  vague  reverence  as  the 
Great  Spirit.  Imagine  the  meeting  between  these 
two  great  men.  One,  the  silent  student  of  Nature, 
the  primeval  man  of  simple  knowledge  such  as 
comes  from  a  contemplation  of  God's  handiwork, 


THE  STORY  OF  OKOBONEE  251 

although  lacking  that  finer  culture  imparted  by  mod- 
ern civilization ;  the  other  the  representative  of 
advanced  thought;  of  all  that  is  modern  and  pro- 
gressive in  science,  a  student  whose  researches 
have  penetrated  every  department  of  human  knowl- 


SBltegHerirf 


gS^OTB 

©IMBiMlE 


"THE   HUSTLER   CAME   WITH    DRAWINGS." 

edge.  Yielding  to  the  solicitation  of  many  friends, 
who  know  the  unprecedented  virtues  of  the  remedy 
of  Okobonee,  Dr.  Calvin  Home,  the  renowned  prac- 
titioner and  master  of  materia  medica,  has  consented 
to  send  the  magic  preparation  into  all  parts  of  the 
world,  that  suffering  and  disease-ridden  humanity 
may  take  hope.  Home's  Healing  Herbs  are  put  up 
in  uniform  packages  of  one-half  pound  each,  and  the 
price  is 

"I'm  in  favor  of  makin'  it  two  dollars," 
said  the  hustler.  "The  more  you  charge 
'em,  the  better  they  think  it  is." 


252  DOC'    HORNE 

"Oh,  pshaw!"  said  Doc',  with  a  smile  and 
a  slow  shake  of  the  head. 

"I  can  find  plenty  o'  capital  to  back  it," 
said  the  hustler,  putting  the  papers  into  his 
pocket. 

"Let's  not  be  in  any  hurry,"  said  Doc'. 

The  lush  winked  at  the  dentist.  They 
could  see  that  Doc'  was  yielding. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

THE    HUSTLER    DISAPPEARS 

The  Okobonee  Medicine  Company,  when 
organized  to  manufacture  Home's  Healing 
Herbs,  was  to  receive  the  financial  support 
of  a  capitalist  whom  the  hustler  was  not  at 
liberty  to  designate  until  all  the  terms  had 
been  arranged.  Doc'  continued  to  listen  to 
the  generous  promises  made  by  the  hustler, 
but  he  never  agreed  to  become  a  responsible 
partner  in  the  medicine  company.  At  the 
same  time  he  dallied  and  doubted,  remem- 
bering that  other  men  had  made  large 
fortunes  by  the  manufacture  and  sale  of 
proprietary  remedies.  The  hustler  an- 
nounced that  he  had  given  up  all  plans  in 
relation  to  Champion  Tablets  and  was  devot- 
ing his  entire  time  to  "interesting"  the 
capital  which  was  to  enable  him  to  put  a 
full-page  advertisement  in  every  metropoli- 
tan newspaper  in  the  United  States.  His 
projects  were  large  but  indefinite,  and  his 
talk,  when  well  prolonged,  had  a  hollow 
sound.  One  day,  when  he  sought  to  borrow 
253 


254  °OC'    HORNE 

two  dollars,  Doc'  lost  faith  in  him  and  said: 
"My  dear  sir,  it  occurs  to  me  that  there  is  no 
need  of  any  further  talk  regarding  this 
medicine  enterprise.  As  you  know,  I  have 
permitted  you  to  outline  your  plans  to  me, 
and  have  hesitated  to  put  a  final  and  definite 
veto  to  your  suggestions  because  you  have 
seemed  so  much  in  earnest  and  have  sug- 
gested to  me  that  your  financial  welfare 
depended  on  my  willingness  to  cooperate 
with  you.  I  take  it  that  you  are  without 
capital.  So  far  as  I  am  concerned,  I  have 
none  which  is  free  for  investment  at  this 
time.  Putting  aside  the  rather  vague 
generalities  in  which  we  have  dealt  up  to 
this  time,  I  ask  you  the  direct  question, 
have  you  the  money  to  carry  out  this 
project?" 

"I  hope  to  get  it,"  replied  the  hustler.  "I 
was  talkin'  to  a  party  yesterday." 

The  hustler  seemed  almost  discouraged, 
but  he  brightened  when  Doc'  said:  "In 
regard  to  the  loan,  I  think  I  can  let  you  have 
the  amount  you  mention.  I  feel  under  some 
obligations  to  you,  but  as  this  whole  enter- 
prise is  yours  I  can't  see  why  I  should  be 
involved  in  it.  So  count  me  out. " 

"Do  you  mean  it?" 


THE    HUSTLER    DISAPPEARS  255 

"Absolutely." 

"I'd  like  to  use  your  picture  and  that 
story." 

"Use  what  you  please,  so  that  you  omit 
the  name  of  Calvin  Home." 

"Just  as  you  say,  Doc'.  I'll  hand  you  this 
two  some  time,"  putting  the  money  into  his 
pocket. 

Next  day  he  had  gone  from  the  hotel, 
owing  Ike  Francis  six  dollars  for  room  rent. 

The  freckled  boy  then  announced  that  he 
had  "sized"  the  hustler  fora  "pan-handler" 
from  the  very  start. 

Doc'  felt  relieved  that  the  man  had  gone 
and  taken  his  temptations  with  him.  The 
riddance  was  worth  two  dollars. 


CHAPTER    XXIV 


DOC     IS    ARRESTED 

One  evening  in  November,  two  days 
after  the  hustler  disappeared,  and  only  one 
day  before  the  den- 
tist found  Miss  Mil- 
bury,  Calvin  Home, 
sitting  in  the  office 
of  the  Alfalfa  Euro- 
pean Hotel  and  talk- 
ing Shakespeare  with 
the  book-agent,  was 
arrested  on  a  criminal 
warrant  charging 
him  with  obtaining 
money  imder  false 
pretenses. 

"Yes,  sir,  my  name 
is     Home,"    he  an- 

"TALKING    SHAKESPEARE."      Swered,       looking      Up 

at  the  large  man  who  interrupted  the  talk. 

"I'm  an  officer,"  said  this   plain-clothes 

man,  lifting  his  coat  to  show  a  heavy  star 

which  was  on  the  vest,  away  back  under  the 


DOC'    IS   ARRESTED  257 

armhole.  "I  got  a  warrant  for  you.  Do 
you  know  about  it?" 

"Do  I — what  do  you  mean,  sir?"  de- 
manded Doc',  staring  hard  and  throwing 
away  his  cigar. 

"I  think  there  must  be  some  mistake," 
said  the  book-agent.  "This  is  Doctor 
Home." 

"Colvin  Home,"  read  the  officer,  looking 
at  the  warrant. 

"Calvin,"  corrected  Doc'. 

"You're  the  man,  all  right,"  said  the 
officer.  "Don't  try  none  o'  your  funny 
business  with  me.  I  been  workin'  on  the 
case — saw  you  here  to-day,  and  had  you 
pointed  out  to  me." 

"What  in  God's  name  is  the  meaning  of 
all  this?"  asked  Doc',  taking  hold  of  the 
book-agent's  arm. 

"I  can  read  this  if  you  want  to  hear  it, " 
said  the  officer.  "The  charge  is  obtainin' 
money." 

"This  is  all  Greek  to  me,"  said  Doc'. 
"It's  simply  a  mistake — that's  all." 

"Who  swore  out  the  warrant?"  asked  the 
book-agent. 

He  and  Doc'  had  arisen  and  stood  facing 
the  big  man  in  plain  clothes,  who  gave  the 


258  DOC'    HORNE 

book-agent  one  condemning  glance,  which 
meant,  "As  if  both  of  you  didn't  know!" 
and  then  he  replied:  "A  man  named  Park- 
man." 

"I  never  heard  of  him,"  said  Doc'. 

"I  s'pose  you  never  heard- of  a  fake  medi- 
cine company,  neither — did  you?"  asked  the 
officer.  "You  can  tell  the  judge  all  about  it 
in  the  morning." 

"Medicine  company!  Has  that  fellow 
involved  me  in  one  of  his  rascally  schemes? 
Officer,  do  you  mean  to  say  that  I,  Calvin 
Home,  am  arrested  on  a  charge  of  obtaining 
money  under  false  pretenses?  I'll  have  you 
understand,  sir,  that  I  never  touched  a 
penny  of  soiled  money  in  my  life. " 

"Say,  I  ain't  tryin'  this  case,  you  know," 
said  the  officer.  "You  and  this  fellow  was 
pardners,  wasn't  you?" 

"No,  sir!" 

"What's  the  matter,  Doc'?"  asked  the 
freckled  boy,  pushing  a  curious  transient 
out  of  the  way. 

"It  appears,  my  boy,  that  I  am  under 
arrest,"  said  Doc',  who  held  a  handkerchief 
in  his  trembling  hand  and  now  wiped  his 
face  with  it. 

"Pinched?' 


DOC'    IS   ARRESTED  259 

"It's  the  fault  of  that  scoundrel  who 
wanted  to  get  Doc'  into  the  medicine  com- 
pany," said  the  book-agent.  "He's  the 
man  you  want  to  arrest,"  he  added,  turning 
to  the  officer.  "Where  is  he?" 

"How  do  I  know?"  Then  to  Doc':  "Are 
you  ready  to  go  with  me?" 

"Go  with  you?"  asked  Doc'.  "Go 
where?" 

"Where  do  people  usually  go  when 
they're  arrested?  Over  to  the  station- 
house." 

"I  warn  you,  sir,  I  warn  you,"  said  Doc', 
with  upraised  and  threatening  forefinger. 
"This  arrest  is  a  mistake,  sir — a  hideous 
outrage,  my  man,  and  some  one  will  suffer 
for  it." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,"  said  the  officer, 
with  a  tolerant  grin.  "If  you've  got  any 
friends  you  can  give  bail  to-night  and  square 
the  whole  thing  in  the  morning.  There's 
no  need  of  gettiii'  worked  up  about  it." 

"Indeed!" 

"I  can  see  that  the  officer  isn't  to  blame," 
said  the  book-agent.  "He  is  simply  doing 
his  duty.  I  dare  say  you  can  arrange  the 
matter  of  bail  as  soon  as  you  get  over  there. " 

"You  can  get  bailed  out  along  about  mid- 


260  DOC'    HORNE 

night,"  said  the  plain-clothes  man.  "The 
judge  comes  down  about  that  time.  Mebbe 
you  can  get  him  sooner  if  you  know  him. ' ' 

"And  in  the  meantime,  sir?" 

"Well,  you  ain't  any  better  than  anybody 
else,  are  you?  Do  you  know  the  captain?" 

"Do  you  mean,  sir,  that  I — that  after 
being  arrested  on  some  preposterous  charge 
I  may  be  thrown  into  a  — locked  up?" 

"Well,  I  don't  know  where  else  you  could 
be  put." 

"My  God!" 

Doc'  sank  back  into  his  chair,  breathing 
loudly.  The  plain-clothes  man  seemed  sur- 
prised that  any  one  should  be  so  agitated 
over  the  everyday  ceremony  of  an  arrest. 
The  book-agent  laid  his  hand  on  Doc's 
shoulder  and  recited,  solemnly : 

"Right  forever  on  the  scaffold, 
Wrong  forever  on  the  throne." 

The  freckled  boy  had  hurried  to  the  res- 
taurant and  given  the  alarm  to  the  dentist 
and  the  lush,  who  were  dividing  a  sirloin 
steak. 

All  three  came  in  the  front  door  with  a 
run  and  a  slam,  the  dentist  being  the  first  to 
reach  Doc'. 


DOC    IS   ARRESTED  261 

"What  does  this  mean,  Doc'?"  he 
demanded. 

"I — don't  know,"  replied  Doc',  slowly 
lifting  his  head.  Tears  were  in  his  eyes. 

The  book-agent  explained. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you've 
arrested  him?"  demanded  the  dentist,  turn- 
ing to  the  officer. 

"What  if  I  have?"  asked  the  plain-clothes 
man. 

"Well,  if  you  have,  it's  a  confounded 
shame!"  said  the  dentist,  lifting  his  voice. 

"Smash  him!"  said  the  freckled  boy,  in  a 
disguised  voice,  with  his  hand  over  his 
mouth. 

The  officer  turned  quickly  to  make 
trouble. 

"Shut  up!"  ordered  the  lush,  and  he 
stepped  up  to  take  command  of  the  situa- 
tion. "Do  I  understand,  officer,  that  you 
have  a  warrant  for  Mr.  Home?" 

"I've  served  the  warrant,  and  I  don't 
know  who  you  are — cuttin'  in  here." 

"I  am  simply  one  of  his  friends,  that's  all. 
Let's  not  lose  our  tempers.  I  guess  you 
know  as  well  as  any  of  us  that  Mr.  Home 
here  can  give  any  bond  up  to  a  million  dol- 
lars if  you  allow  him  time  to  notify  his 


262  DOC'    HORNE 

friends.  It  won't  be  necessary  for  him  to 
go  to  the  station  at  all,  will  it?" 

"Of  course  it  will!"  replied  the  officer, 
amazed. 

4 'If  we  can  bring  to  you  here,  within  an 
hour,  messages  from  the  mayor  and  the 
chief  to  guarantee  his  appearance  at  any 
time  or  place,  then  will  it  be  necessary  for 
him  to  go?" 

"He  can't  give  no  bond  unless  he  goes  to 
the  station,"  said  the  plain-clothes  man,  who 
began  to  look  at  Doc'  with  a  new  interest. 

"Hurry  out  and  get  me  four  messenger 
boys- — quick!"  said  the  lush  to  the  freckled 
boy.  "What  magistrate  is  on  duty  to- 
night?" 

"Ramsay,  I  think." 

"He  and  Mr.  Home  are  brother  members 
of  the  Loyal  Legion.  Great  heavens! 
Some  one  is  going  to  sweat  for  this 
to-morrow."  Then  to  the  other  members 
of  the  colony:  "It's  a  good  thing  the  war- 
rant got  into  the  hands  of  a  man  who  knows 
how  to  be  decent  in  a  case  of  this  kind." 
He  put  his  hand  on  Doc's  shoulder  and  said, 
consolingly:  "We'll  simply  walk  over  to  the 
captain's  office  and  sit  there  until  we  can 
arrange  the  bond.  If  there's  any  delay 


DOC'    IS   ARRESTED  263 

we'll  have  Judge  Thompson,  Col.  Munster 
and  Alec  Moody  there  by  ten  o'clock." 

He  led  the  plain-clothes  man  to  one  side 
and  whispered  to  him:  "Doc',  there,  is  Alec 
Moody's  cousin." 

Alec  Moody  was  the  king  of  criminal 
lawyers,  a  millionaire,  a  power  at  the  city 
hall.  Judge  Thompson  had  been  "men- 
tioned" as  a  candidate  for  mayor.  Col. 
Munster  was  a  broker  and  the  treasurer  of 
the  Policemen's  Benevolent  Association. 

"One  of  you  speak  to  Cap',  and  I  think 
he'll  let  him  stay  right  in  the  office,"  said 
the  plain-clothes  man.  "It'd  be  a  dirty 
shame  to  throw  him  downstairs.  He  might 
get  in  with  a  bum  or  a  Chinaman,  or  any  one. ' ' 

"Why,  it  would  be  dreadful — a  man  of 
his  age!"  said  the  lush.  "He's  nearly 
eighty  years  old.  He  doesn't  look  it,  but 
that's  what  he  is.  When  we  walk  over  to 
the  station  you  won't  take  hold  of  him,  or 
anything  like  that?" 

"I  guess  it  ain't  necessary." 

"And  let  me  walk  along  with  him.  You 
won't  lose  anything  by  treating  him  well. 
This  whole  thing  is  a  put-up  job." 

"He  seems  to  be  a  quiet  old  guy — don't 
look  to  me  like  a  crook." 


264  DOC'    HORNE 

"I'd  like  to  get  hold  of  the  idiot  that 
swore  out  this  warrant." 

"I  think  we'd  better  go  over  to  the  sta- 
tion," said  the  plain-clothes  man.  "I've  got 
to  let  'em  know  I  served  the  warrant." 

"Just  as  soon  as  I  arrange  for  those  mes- 
sages." 

The  members  of  the  colony  had  listened 
in  numb  admiration  to  the  masterful  lying 
of  the  lush,  and  none  ventured  to  assist. 
The  freckled  boy  came  with  two  mes- 
sengers. The  lush  took  him  over  to  the 
counter  and  gave  whispered  instructions  to 
hold  the  boys  there  until  Doc'  had  gone. 
Then  he  walked  up  to  Doc'  and  said:  "We'll 
go  over  there  and  arrange  this  business.  It 
won't  take  long." 

Doc'  arose,  white,  his  face  suddenly 
drawn  with  the  thinness  of  age,  and  said: 
"If  I  am  to  be  incarcerated,  I  protest 
with " 

"Nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  the  lush,  and 
he  laughed  as  he  took  hold  of  Doc's  arm. 
"A  mere  formality." 

He  went  ahead,  with  Doc'  by  his  side. 
The  plain-clothes  man  followed,  with  the 
dentist  for  his  mate.  The  book-agent  lum- 
bered behind.  As  they  passed  out  to  the 


DOC'    IS   ARRESTED  265 

street  they  heard  the  freckled  boy  explain- 
ing the  incident  to  a  group  of  awed  tran- 
sients and  saying:  "If  ever  I  get  a  crack  at 
that  lobster  he'll  have  to  take  a  trip  layin' 
down,  feet  first." 

The  five,  on  their  way  to  the  station, 
fought  the  cold  wind  along  a  narrow  street 
between  high  buildings,  dark  and  forbid- 
ding. As  they  came  to  the  iron  steps  of  the 
station-house  (a  square  brick  building  on  a 
corner),  the  lush  hurried  in  ahead  of  the 
others  and  the  plain-clothes  man  moved  up 
to  catch  step  with  Doc'. 

It  was  a  bare,  rectangular  room,  with  two 
iron  posts  to  support  the  ceiling.  At  one 
end,  in  a  recess  shut  off  by  a  wire  screen, 
sat  a  large  man  in  his  shirt  sleeves.  He 
had  gray  hair  and  mustache,  and  was  read- 
ing an  evening  paper  through  a  pair  of 
steel-bowed  spectacles.  An  overhead  lamp 
threw  a  glare  about  him.  This  man  was  the 
desk  sergeant.  From  a  room  behind  the 
recess  came  the  buzz  of  muffled  tele- 
phones. 

The  lush  was  standing  by  an  open  door 
marked  "Captain,"  and  he  beckoned  to 
Doc',  saying:  "Step  right  in  here  until  we 
can  get  the  papers  made  out."  At  this  the 


266  DOC'    HORNE 

desk  sergeant  peered  out  from  behind  the 
screen.  The  plain- clothes  man  went  over 
to  the  window  and  explained  to  him. 

One  gas  jet  was  burning  low  in  the  cap- 
tain's room.  Doc'  sat  in  a  broad  arm-chair 
and  looked  at  the  floor.  Both  the  dentist 
and  the  book-agent  went  in  with  him,  but 
they  sat  helpless,  because  they  could  not 
say  anything  to  suit  the  occasion.  The 
lush  was  pleading  with  the  desk  sergeant, 
who  said  that  the  judge  always  came 
between  eleven  o'clock  and  midnight,  and 
couldn't  and  wouldn't  be  sent  for  any 
sooner. 

The  freckled  boy  arrived  with  a  prepared 
speech,  enumerating  the  influential  poli- 
ticians who  had  been  notified  and  who 
might  appear  at  any  moment.  The  desk 
sergeant  listened  with  a  grin,  suggestive  of 
doubt.  In  order  to  get  rid  of  this  element 
of  danger,  the  lush  sent  the  boy  to  the 
magistrate's  residence  far  out  on  the  south 
side,  as  he  had  learned  that  the  magistrate 
was  attending  a  political  club  dinner  down- 
town. 

It  meant  a  wait.  The  lush  buttoned  his 
overcoat  and  went  out  into  the  street.  He 
walked  north  until  he  came  to  a  place  where 


DOC'   IS   ARRESTED 


267 


drinks  were  fifteen  cents  each,  and  there  he 
drank  two  high  allowances  of  whisky. 

Back  at  the  station  a  whispering  reporter 
led  him  into  a  dim  corner  and  wanted  to 
know  something  about  the  man  Home,  who 
had  been  arrested. 
The  lush  told  the 
reporter  to    go  to 
the  devil  and  sug- 
gested   that    he 
would  th  rash  any 
person    who     put 
anything    about 
Doc'     into    any 
newspaper. 

He  went  into 
the  captain's  office 
and  began  to  out- 
line to  Doc'  his 
plan  for  revenge. 
The  dentist 
begged  him  to  re- 
main quiet.  He 
went  out  and  took  another  drink. 

At  last  the  magistrate  came,  and  the  pris- 
oners who  had  been  waiting  in  the  basement 
cells  were  brought  up  and  stood  in  a  line 
across  the  big  room — men  sleepy  drunk; 


THE   MAGISTRATE. 


268  DOC    HORNE 

men  with  bruised  faces ;  chalky  women  with 
their  hats  pulled  forward,  who  showed  a 
weary  and  smiling  contempt  for  this  familiar 
process  of  taxation.  Doc'  did  not  come  out 
until  the  others  had  signed  their  names  and 
paid  their  dollars.  Only  those  who  could 
pay  the  fees  and  get  the  guarantee  of  a 
bondsman  were  released.  As  no  member 
of  the  colony  was  a  property  owner,  the 
lush  had  found  a  negro  who  made  a  busi- 
ness of  signing  bonds.  Doc'  came  out  with 
his  mournful  escort,  and  wrote  his  name  on 
a  paper  laid  before  him.  The  dentist  paid 
a  dollar  to  the  magistrate  and  another  to  the 
negro.  The  police  reporter  stood  by  and 
watched  through  half-closed  eyes.  He  was 
smoking  a  bulldog  pipe. 

"Nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,"  said  the 
desk  sergeant,  blotting  the  signatures. 

"Come  on,  Doc',"  said  the  lush. 

Doc'  followed  him  without  giving  sign 
that  he  had  heard.  As  they  moved  toward 
the  door  the  freckled  boy  entered,  breathing 
heavily. 

"I — couldn't  find — his  nobs,"  he  said. 
"You  fixed  it,  did  you?" 

"Yes— all  right,"  replied  the  dentist, 
sharply. 


DOC'    IS   ARRESTED  269 

As  soon  as  they  were  outside  the  lush 
gave  a  long  groan  of  relief  and  then  turned 
to  look  up  at  the  station-house. 

"Oh,  temple  of  justice!"  he  said,  remov- 
ing his  hat.  "Hooray  for  the  palladium  of 
our  liberties!  All  I  want  to  do  is  to  smash 
one  o'  those  windows.  I've  had  five  drinks, 
and  I'm  going  to  have  fifty-five  more." 

He  walked  out  into  the  street  to  find 
something  to  throw  at  the  window.  The 
dentist  and  the  freckled  boy  had  to  pull 
at  him  to  induce  him  to  follow  Doc'  and  the 
book-agent. 

Doc'  did  not  seem  to  observe  that  the  lush 
had  broken  his  promise.  He  did  not  speak 
during  the  walk  back  to  the  hotel. 


CHAPTER    XXV 

THE    TRIAL 

The  members  of  the  colony  saw  a  mention 
of  the  arrest  in  the  morning  papers,  and 
hoped  that  Doc'  would  overlook  it. 

The  dentist  went  to  Doc's  room  at  seven 
o'clock  and  the  old  man  was  not  there.  He 
had  gone  for  a  walk.  The  lush  and  the 
freckled  boy  were  at  the  bar  early.  They 
had  assisted  Steve  in  closing  it  the  night 
before. 

The  dentist  took  breakfast  with  the  book- 
agent  at  the  restaurant,  and  when  they  came 
back  into  the  hotel  Doc'  was  sitting  there 
reading  his  favorite  newspaper,  now  his 
enemy. 

The  item  was  much  the  same  in  all  the 
morning  papers.  The  colony  concluded 
that  it  had  been  sent  out  in  duplicate  by  a 
news  bureau. 

A  FAKE  MEDICINE   COMPANY. 

TWO    SMOOTH     CITIZENS    WHO    GOT    THE    BEST    OF    GULLI- 
BLE   BUSINESS    MEN. 

Calvin  Home,  otherwise  known  as  "Doc"  Home, 
was  arrested  at  the  Alfalfa  Hotel  last    evening    by 
Detective   Clancy,    of  central  detail,    charged  with 
270 


THE    TRIAL  271 

having  obtained  money  under  false  pretenses.  The 
warrant  was  sworn  out  by  Oscar  Parkman,  of  the 
printing  house  of  Parkman,  Benedict  and  Blair,  who 
alleges  that  other  business  houses  have  been 
victimized  as  well.  It  is  said  that  Home  and  a 
partner  named  Jackson  H.  Smith,  both  of  whom  have 
been  living  at  the  Alfalfa  Hotel,  claimed  to  be  at  the 
head  of  a  concern  called  The  Okobonee  Medicine 
Company,  with  a  capital  of  $100,000  and  the  backing 
of  several  substantial  citizens.  "Doctor"  Horne 
posed  as  the  president  of  the  company  and  Smith 
was  supposed  to  be  secretary  and  treasurer.  They 
represented  to  several  business  houses  that  the  "com- 
pany" had  rented  an  entire  floor  in  the  new  Gunnison 
building  and  was  about  to  do  extensive  advertising. 
So  plausible  were  the  claims  made  by  the  duo  that 
Mr.  Parkman  advanced  $2  5  in  cash  and  gave  credit 
for  $18  worth  of  printing.  On  Monday  he  became 
suspicious  and  started  an  investigation  which 
developed  the  fact  that  the  prominent  "stock- 
holders" knew  nothing  about  the  "Okobonee  Medicine 
Company."  Smith  cannot  be  found  by  the  police 
and  it  is  supposed  that  he  has  left  the  city.  Horne, 
who  is  about  60  years  old  and  is  said  to  hold  a  minor 
position  in  the  government  building,  professed 
surprise  and  indignation  when  taken  into  custody 
last  evening.  He  will  have  a  preliminary  hearing 
before  Justice  Ramsay  this  morning. 

"Gentlemen,  have  you  seen  this  infamous 
publication?"  asked  Doc',  as  he  held  the 
paper  toward  them.  His  eyes  were  blood- 
shot, and  he  had  the  pallor  of  a  sick  man,  the 


272  DOC'    HORNE 

corners  of  his  mouth  being  drawn  downward 
as  if  by  physical  suffering.  He  spoke  quietly. 

"  'Be  thou  as  chaste  as  ice,  as  pure  as 
snow,  thou  shalt  not  escape  calumny,'  " 
quoted  the  book-agent. 

"I  wouldn't  worry  about  that,  Doc',''  said 
the  dentist.  "They'll  have  to  take  every 
word  of  it  back.  Have  you  been  to  break- 
fast?" 

"Breakfast? — no.     What  time  is  it?" 

"We'll  start  over  there  in  about  a  half  an 
hour.  I  was  wondering  if  you  wanted  a 
lawyer. ' ' 

"What  have  I  done  that  I  should  require 
a  lawyer?" 

"Nothing,  only  I  thought " 

"I  will  not  dignify  this  contemptible 
attack  by  offering  a  defense.  Let  the  accu- 
sation fall  of  its  own  rottenness.  Besides, 
the  plot  has  succeeded.  I  am  in  the  dock. 
The  taint  has  been  put  on  me.  That's  all 
the  craven  hound  wanted,  whoever  he  is. 
Smith  was  a  puppet — nothing  more.  I  will 
be  in  my  room  when  you  gentlemen  are 
ready  to  go." 

He  arose,  pushing  on  the  arms  of  the 
chair  to  lift  himself,  and  walked  over  to  the 
elevator. 


THE    TRIAL  273 

The  lush  and  the  freckled  boy  came  out 
from  the  bar-room  and  saw  him.  They 
were  flushed  and  odorous. 

"That  thing'll  be  straightened  out  in  the 
papers,  Doc',"  said  the  freckled  boy,  going 
over  to  him.  "We  won't  stand  for  nothin' 
like  that.  They'll  put  in  a  piece  an'  get  the 
whole  thing  right  or  we'll  start  somethin'. 
You  see  if  we  don't." 

"You  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  Doc', 
without  looking  at  him.  He  stepped  into 
the  elevator  and  rode  upward. 

The  colony  held  an  indignation  meeting 
full  of  threats  and  vituperation.  The 
bicycle  salesman,  who  had  been  absent  the 
night  before,  came  in  to  hear  the  account  of 
the  lush's  strategy  to  save  Doc'  from  a  cell. 

"Well,  they  can't  prove  anything  against 
Doc',  do  you  s'pose?"  asked  the  bicycle 
youth. 

This  was  the  first  time  that  any  one  had 
raised  a  question  as  to  the  outcome  of  the 
trial.  The  book-agent  quoted,  this  time 
from  Doc'.  He  said:  "The  charge  will  fall 
of  its  own  rottenness." 

Five  members  of  the  colony  followed  Doc* 
out  of  the  hotel  and  over  to  the  police  sta- 
tion. Doc'  was  calmer  than  he  had  been  the 


274 


DOC    HORNE 


night  before,  and  the  freckled  boy  remarked : 
"He's  got  his  nerve  with  him  all  right,  all 
right." 

In  the  big  room  at  the  station  were  patrol- 
men in  uniform,  unbuttoned  and  uncombed 
lawyers     smoking 
ragged  cigars,    fat 
negro    women  with- 
^  out  hats,   puffy  men 
/  in     striped     clothes, 
/    drooping     men     in 
soiled   garments  and 
a    few    plain-clothes 
men,  including  Clan- 
cy, who  did  not  seem 
pleased     to    see    the 
lush  again. 

The  colony  pushed 
through  the  waiting 
room  and  into  the 
court  room,  which 
was  a  dusky  place, 

the  only  light  from  the  outside  filtering  in 
through  two  windows  that  opened  on  an 
alley.  Crowded  on  the  parallel  benches 
which  faced  the  magistrate's  high  seat 
were  men  in  sun-bleached  clothes  who 
smelled  of  smoke  and  drink,  glistening 


"THE    CHARGE   WILL    FALL. 


THE    TRIAL  275 

negroes,  veiled  women,  gaping-  and  dirty 
boys  without  collars,  giggling  women  with 
flowery  hats,  and  a  few  women  tightly 
veiled.  Placid  Chinamen  were  here,  and 
restless  Italians  and  the  usual  filling  of 
curious  loafers.  Doc'  and  his  companions  slid 
into  a  bench  near  the  back  wall.  A  bailiff 
was  pushing  at  the  people  who  crowded  for- 
ward in  the  main  aisle  and  noisily  commanded 
every  one  to  "Go  on  now!  Get  seats!" 

The  trials  began  with  twenty  men  and 
women  crowding  and  pushing  one  another 
inside  of  the  railing.  The  murmur  of  talk 
and  the  noise  of  shuffling  feet  prevented  the 
people  on  the  benches  from  hearing  any  of 
the  talk  between  the  magistrate  and  those 
who  were  jostling  about  in  front  of  him. 
Now  and  then  the  clerk  bawled  out  the 
names  of  defendants,  some  of  whom  were 
waiting  on  the  benches  and  others  of  whom 
were  being  brought  up  from  below  and 
shoved  into  the  keeping  of  the  officers  who 
had  arrested  them.  After  a  defendant  had 
been  discharged  he  had  to  fight  his  way  out 
of  the  compact  group  in  front  of  the  court. 
The  defendant  found  guilty  was  dragged 
out  of  the  crowd  by  a  policeman  and  led 
over  to  the  clerk's  cage  to  pay  his  fine.  If 


276  DOC    HORNE 

he  could  not  pay  he  was  led  down  the  stair- 
way into  the  basement,  to  await  the  after- 
noon wagon  to  the  bridewell. 

Justice  moved  with  scorching  speed  here. 
Sixty  cases  had  been  disposed  of — drunken- 
ness, petty  thievery,  assault,  vagrancy, 
opium  smoking,  disorderly  conduct — before 
the  clerk  shouted:  "Calvin  Home,  Oscar 
Parkman,  Officer  Clancy!" 

"Come  on,  boys,"  said  the  lush.  "Stick 
to  him." 

They  followed  him  up  the  aisle  and 
pushed  behind  him,  through  the  gate  and 
up  to  the  high  desk  protecting  the  court. 

"Are  the  parties  here?"  asked  the  justice. 
"Where's — let's  see — where's  Home?" 

"I  am  he,"  said  Doc',  who  had  been 
blocked  by  a  large  man  with  red  hair. 

"Well,  get  up  here  closer,  where  we  can 
take  a  look  at  you.  Let  him  past  you  there. 
(This  to  the  red-headed  man.)  What  are 
you  waiting  here  for?  Your  case  is  over. 
Get  out  and  make  room  for  some  of  these 
other  people.  Where's  Parkman?" 

"Here!"  said  a  small  man,  with  close  side 
whiskers  of  brown  and  a  pair  of  concave 
eye-glasses.  The  members  of  the  colony 
tiptoed  to  get  a  look  at  the  man. 


THE   TRIAL  277 

Doc'  said,  "Not  guilty." 

"And  who  are  all  these?"  demanded  the 
court,  frowning  at  the  five  who  were  close 
behind  Doc'. 

"We  are  witnesses,  your  honor,"  said  the 
lush.  "That  is,  if  you  need  us,  which  I 
don't  think  you  will." 

"I'll  decide  as  to  that,"  said  the  court. 
"Be  sworn." 

A  mumbling  oath  was  recited  by  a  busy 
clerk.  The  court  looked  at  the  plain-clothes 
man  and  asked:  "What  do  you  know  about 
the  case,  Clancy?" 

"I  served  the  warrant,  your  honor.  All  I 
know  is  that  this  man"  (indicating  Doc') 
"and  the  fellow  Smith  that  got  the  money 
from  Mr.  Parkman  here  lived  together  at 
that  hotel  down  there,  and  had  got  up  some 
kind  of  a  company  together,  and " 

"I  deny  it!"  said  Doc'. 

"We'll  hear  from  you  later,"  said  the 
court,  addressing  Doc'.  Then  to  Mr.  Park- 
man: "Did  this  man  get  any  property  from 
you  on  false  pretenses?  Tell  your  story, 
and  cut  it  short." 

"I  want  to  show  you  these,"  began  the 
complainant,  taking  two  cards  from  his 
pocket  and  handing  them  to  the  court. 


278  DOC'    HORNE 

"Those  are  the  business  cards  of  the  fraud- 
ulent concern.  This  man  claimed  to  be  the 
president  of  the  company." 

"He  didn't,"  growled  the  freckled  boy, 
from  his  place  of  shelter  behind  the  dentist. 

"You  fellows  keep  still,"  said  the  court, 
turning  to  Doc's  witnesses. 

"Ask  this  man  if  he  ever  saw  me  before," 
said  Doc',  who  had  turned  a  stern  and 
unfaltering  gaze  on  Parkman. 

"Is  this  the  man  who  got  the  money?" 
asked  the  court. 

"His  partner  got  it." 

"You  told  me  when  you  swore  out  the 
warrant  that  this  man  had  got  money  and 
merchandise  from  you  under  false  pre- 
tenses," said  the  court. 

"Well,  he  did  get  it,  indirectly/' 

"How  do  you  know  he  did?" 

"Because  he  and  Smith  were  partners. 
The  card  there  shows  that  this  man  was 
president  of  the  company. ' ' 

"That's  no  proof.  Are  you  sure  they 
were  in  partnership?" 

"They  lived  together  at  this  hotel  and 
hatched  up  this  whole  scheme.  I  can 
prove  it. ' ' 

"Yes,  you  can!"  said  the  lush. 


THE    TRIAL  279 

"Hush,"  said  Doc'.  "Let  this  gentleman 
conclude — or  perhaps  he  has  concluded." 

"Did  you  ever  see  this  man  before?" 
asked  the  court,  addressing  Parkman. 

"Well — no,  but  his  partner,  Smith " 

"Provre — that — partnership,"  said  Doc', 
with  measured  slowness,  as  he  raised  his  fist 
and  brought  it  down  on  the  desk  in  front  of 
him.  "Your  honor,  I  have  no  interest  in  this 
hearing  further  than  to  ascertain  whether 
this  attack  on  me  was  prompted  by  a 
malicious  desire  to  smirch  my  reputation  or 
was  due  to  the  asinine  stupidity  of  this  per- 
son on  my  left." 

"Give  it  to  him,  Doc',"  said  the  freckled 
boy,  speaking  over  the  dentist's  shoulder. 

"For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  stand  in  a 
dock  to  answer  a  criminal  charge,"  said 
Doc',  turning  to  the  right  and  then  to  the 
left,  addressing  not  only  the  court,  but  the 
loitering  policemen  and  reporters.  "What 
is  the  basis  for  this  charge?  This  man 
had  been  told  that  I  was  in  partnership 
with  a  scoundrel  to  whom  he  had  loaned 
money. " 

"Smith  told  me,"  said  the  complainant, 
squinting  at  the  court  through  his  glasses. 

"You    haven't    got   any  case,  "said    the 


280  DOC'    HORNE 

court,  shaking  his  head  slowly,  as  if  he  were 
sorry  to  be  compelled  to  say  it. 

"Well,  I  have  good  reasons  for  thinking 
they  were  in  cahoots,"  said  Parkman,  per- 
sistently. 

"That's  all,"  said  the  court,  with  decision. 
"Dismissed!" 

All  turned  to  move  out  of  the  pen  and  were 
elbowing  for  the  gate  when  Parkman  turned 
and  exclaimed:  "Your  honor!  Your  honor!" 

"Well,  what  is  it?" 

"This  man  here  (pointing  at  the  freckled 
boy)  has  just  now  threatened  me.  He 
said  he'd  poke  me  in  the  eye  when  we  got 
outside." 

"My  goodness,  you  believe  everything 
people  tell  you,  don't  you?"  asked  the  lush, 
grinning  at  Parkman. 

"Say,  your  honor,  I  never  spoke  to  him 
at  all,"  said  the  freckled  boy.  "I  don't 
want  nothin'  to  do  with  him." 

"Why,  this  boy  wouldn't  harm  a  fly," 
said  the  lush.  "All  we're  goin'  to  do  to 
Mr.  Parkman  is  sue  him  for  fifty  thousand 
for  false  arrest. ' ' 

"If  he  pokes  you  in  the  eye,  you  swear 
out  a  warrant  for  him,"  said  the  court  to 
Parkman. 


THE    TRIAL 


281 


Doc*  had  walked  ahead  with  the  dentist, 
the  book-agent  and  the  bicycle  salesman. 
The  salesman  had  offended  Doc'  by  trying 
to  shake  hands  and 
bubble  his  congratu- 
lations. 

"I   trust    you  did 

not  admit  the  possi-  ~^     A  \\\ 

bility   of    any    other  ra^SSNlU. 

result, ' '  said  Doc'. 
"I  desire  no  con- 
gratulations. ' ' 

"Oh!"    said  the 
salesman. 

"Wait  a  minute!" 
shouted  the  freckled 
boy,  as  he  followed  "THE  BICYCLE  SALESMAN." 
them  out  of  the  station.  "Let's  hang  around 
here  till  that  guy  comes  out  Say,  he's 
scared  stiff." 

"He  is  beneath  our  contempt,"  said  Doc'. 
"Come,  gentlemen,"  and  he  led  the  way 
with  the  book-agent.  The  dentist  and  the 
bicycle  salesman  hurried  to  their  places  of 
employment.  The  lush  and  the  freckled 
boy  went  away  together.  They  had  con- 
ducted themselves  as  chums  ever  since 
Doc's  arrest,  forgetting  their  past  differ- 


282  DOC'    HORNE 

ences  in  the  strenuous  effort  to  save  Doc' 
and  punish  his  persecutors.  The  freckled 
boy  had  an  intermittent  job  as  collector  for 
a  laundry,  but  he  had  not  displayed  any 
money  since  the  catastrophe  at  the  race 
track.  It  was  believed  in  the  colony  that 
the  lush  paid  the  expenses  of  the  all-day 
and  all-night  celebration  which  followed  the 
triumphant  acquittal. 

The  newspapers  failed  to  mention  the  fact 
that  Doc'  had  been  cleared  of  the  charge 
against  him.  Their  silence  was  thought  to 
be  unjust,  inasmuch  as  they  had  told  of  the 
arrest,  so  the  book-agent  sent  a  long  letter 
to  each  of  the  dailies  demanding  fair  play, 
but  the  letter  was  not  printed,  and  the 
freckled  boy  always  insisted  that  Parkman 
had  "stacked  the  cards." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

UNITED 

The  dentist  came  into  the  hotel  at  5 
p.  m.,  and  found  Ike  Francis  behind  the 
counter,  asleep. 

"Where's  Doc'?"  he  asked,  in  a  loud 
voice. 

Mr.  Francis  looked  up  and  drowsily 
recognized  the  speaker. 

44 In  his  room — ain't  been  out  since  noon," 
he  replied. 

The  dentist  had  vague  fears  as  he  ran  up 
the  stairway.  He  was  relieved  to  find  Doc' 
sitting  under  the  double  gas-light,  reading  a 
book,  which  he  threw  on  the  bed  when  the 
dentist  spoke  to  him. 

"Doc',  what  do  you  think?" 

"I  am  in  no  condition  to  think.  The 
occurrences  of  the  last  twenty-four  hours 
have  unnerved  me." 

"Well,  I  met  her  to-day." 

"Her?" 

"Miss  Milbury — ran  right  into  her  on 
283 


284  DOC    HORNE 

State  Street.  And  say,  she  was  looking 
fine.  And  what  do  you  think,  Doc'?  She 
seems  to  be  at  least  ten  pounds  lighter  than 
she  was  last  spring." 

"Indeed!" 

"I  went  right  up  to  her.  I  don't  know 
why — but  I  couldn't  help  it.  She  didn't 
know  how  to  treat  me  at  first.  She  was 
polite,  but — well,  not  very  cordial.  She 
wanted  to  know  why  I  never  answered  her 
letter.  Do  you  know  what  I  did?  I  told 
her  I  never  received  it.  I  didn't  know  any 
other  way  out  of  it. ' ' 

"I  told  you  to  answer  that  letter." 

"She  asked  about  you  too,  Doc'." 

Doc'  stroked  his  chin-beard  and  glanced 
hesitatingly  at  the  dentist. 

"Do  you  think — did  she  say  anything 
about  that  infamous  publication?" 

"No,  of  course  not.  Why,  nobody  will 
see  that. ' ' 

"Every  friend  I  have  in  the  city  will 
see  it.  They  won't  believe  it,  but  the  dis- 
grace is  there,  my  dear  sir — the  fact  that  I 
have  stood  in  the  dock.  If  this  had  hap- 
pened thirty  years  ago  I  would  have  shot 
Parkman  dead  as  he  stood  there  in  that 
court  room. ' ' 


UNITED  285 

"Doc',  I'm  going  out  there  to  call 
to-night. ' ' 

Doc'  shifted  in  his  chair  and  seemed  ill  at 
ease  under  the  beaming  smile  of  the  dentist. 

"I  have  thought  several  times  that  I 
would  recall  to  your  attention  a  little  con- 
versation we  had  away  last  summer,"  he 
said.  "You  seemed  to  attach  considerable 
significance  to  it  at  the  time.  I  told  you 
that  Miss  Milbury  might,  possibly,  when  she 
became  quite  old,  say  fifty  or  over,  be 
somewhat  stout — at  any  rate,  stouter  than 
she  is  at  present.  If  my  memory  serves  me, 
I  made  no  prediction,  but  simply  said,  in  an 
off-hand  way,  that  she  might  become 
heavier  in  time.  If  you  find  that  you  still 
have  a  fondness  for  this  admirable  and 
most  talented  young  lady,  I  hope  to  God 
that  nothing  I  said  to  you,  in  jest,  at  that 
time,  will  deter  you  from  paying  her  your 
attentions.  If  you  search  through  the  world 
from  now  until  doomsday,  I  don't  believe 
you'll  ever  find  a  woman  more  qualified  in 
every  particular  to  become  the  wife  of  a 
man  who  has  all  the  noble  qualities  which 
are  revealed  in  you." 

"Put  her  there,  Doc',"  said  the  dentist, 
extending  his  hand.  His  chin  trembled  and 


286  DOC'    HORNE 

he  blinked  as  he  took  hold  of  the  out- 
stretched hand. 

4 'I'm  glad  you  feel  that  way.  You're 
right,  too.  She's  the  finest  girl  I  ever  met. 
Will  you  go  out  there  with  me  again  some 
night?" 

Doc'  shook  his  head  slowly. 

"Not  after  what  has  happened,"  he  said. 
"A  blemish  has  been  put  on  my  reputation. 
I  have  been  held  up  to  the  public  gaze  as  a 
swindler  and  confidence  man.  I  have  no 
desire  to  compromise  two  good  women  by 
going  into  their  home  as  a  guest.  If  they 
have  not  heard  what  has  happened,  they 
will  hear  it  soon  enough.  They  may  not 
believe  the  slander,  but  as  long  as  I  am 
under  this  cloud,  I  have  no  desire  to  force 
myself  on  comparative  strangers.  I  would 
prove  an  embarrassment  to  you,  perhaps  a 
hindrance  to  your  plans.  No,  sir ;  I  cannot 
go." 

Thereafter  he  consistently  refused  to  call 
on  the  Milburys,  although  the  dentist  went 
every  evening. 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

DOC'    GOES    AWAY 

One  day  in  December  Doc'  received  a 
telegram  announcing-  the  death  of  a  sister  in 
an  Ohio  town.  He  went  to  the  funeral,  and 
was  absent  from  the  hotel  for  six  days. 
After  he  returned  he  confided  to  the  dentist 
that  he  had  come  into  about  $15,000  of  his 
sister's  estate.  At  first  the  dentist  thought 
there  might  be  some  mistake,  but  Doc'  had 
letters  from  the  lawyers,  and  he  showed  a 
copy  of  the  will. 

This  news  caused  rejoicing  at  the  hotel, 
and  Doc'  was  congratulated  by  all  members 
of  the  colony.  He,  alone,  was  unmoved  by 
his  good  fortune.  He  said  he  had  made 
fortunes  and  lost  fortunes  and  given  away 
fortunes  all  his  life,  and  he  didn't  imagine 
that  any  acquisition  of  wealth  meant  very 
much  to  a  man  of  his  age  and  temperament. 

Ever  since  the  arrest  and  the  trial,  Doc' 

had  shown  a  moody  indifference  to  all  events 

around  him.     The  dentist's  love  affair  was 

now  off  his  conscience.     The  first  attempt 

287 


288  DOC'    HORNE 

to  reform  the  lush  having  failed,  Doc'  did 
not  renew  the  effort."     As  he  sat  with  the 


J 


"THE    LEDGES    OF    THE   TOWN    WERE    WHITE." 

evening  group  he  was  courteous  and 
tolerant,  even  when  the  freckled  boy  offered 
his  heathen  dogmas,  but  he  seldom  told  a 
story,  and  never  showed  a  lively  interest  in 
one  that  was  being  told.  He  who  had 
dominated  the  company  and  shown  himself 


DOC'    GOES   AWAY  289 

the  cheering  influence  became  a  restraint  on 
the  good-fellowship. 

The  colony  had  a  thet>ry  which  accounted 
for  this  change  in  him.  He  was  supposed 
to  be  brooding  over  the  disgrace  of  the 
arrest.  He  thought  that  every  one  knew  of 
his  humiliation,  and  that  some  who  knew  of 
it  doubted  his  innocence.  He  had  been 
the  commanding  figure  at  the  Alfalfa  Hotel, 
but  now  he  felt  that  he  had  no  right  to 
assume  a  superiority,  having  stood  in  the 
dock  charged  with  a  prison  offense.  They 
dared  not  attempt  to  drag  him  out  of  his 
melancholy  by  any  argument  or  assurance, 
because  not  one  of  them  ever  spoke  of  the 
hustler  or  Parkman,  or  the  two  times  at  the 
station.  But  when  the  money  came,  the 
dentist,  believing  that  a  change  of  scene  and 
the  diversions  of  travel  might  serve  to 
effect  a  cure,  suggested  that  Doc'  ought  to 
take  a  vacation. 

Every  member  of  the  colony  seconded  the 
suggestion,  and  Doc',  brightening  under 
their  good  wishes,  decided  to  take  that  long- 
postponed  trip  to  Europe. 

Time  and  time  again  he  had  intended  to 
go  to  Europe.  Once  he  had  bought  his 
ticket  and  started  to  the  steamer,  when  he 


290  DOC'    HORNE 

received  a  telegram  from  Detroit  to  the 
effect  that  Col.  Pounds,  a  friend  from  boy- 
hood, was  involved  in  a  business  smash-up, 
and  needed  an  adviser. 

This  time  he  would  go.  He  could  arrange 
his  business  affairs  so  that  they  would  be 
safe  in  the  hands  of  an  attorney.  He  would 
go  to  Europe  and  perhaps  find  some  of  the 
gentlemen  who  had  been  connected  with  the 
foreign  legations  during  Grant's  two  terms. 
While  in  Europe  he  could  brush  up  his 
French  and  German,  both  of  which  he  had 
spoken  with  considerable  fluency  during  his 
residence  in  Washington. 

As  soon  as  he  had  determined  to  go,  he 
was  in  a  hurry  to  get  away.  The  cold 
weather  had  come  and  the  ledges  of  the 
town  were  white  with  clinging  snow.  He 
was  to  take  a  winter  boat  and  go  direct  to 
Italy,  and  one  of  the  first  men  to  be  hunted 
up  in  Rome  would  be  Flanders,  who  once 
had  a  studio  in  Brooklyn. 

On  the  evening  before  his  departure  Doc' 
was  the  guest  of  honor  at  a  little  dinner 
organized  by  the  dentist,  and  served  in  the 
rear  apartment  of  the  restaurant  which  the 
Alfalfa  colony  patronized.  The  book-agent, 
the  lush,  the  freckled  boy,  the  bicycle  sales- 


DOC'    GOES    AWAY  291 

man,  and  Mr.  Ike  Francis,  proprietor,  sat  at 
the  table.  The  lush  brought  with  him  the 
material  which  he  regarded  as  necessary  to 
the  drinking  of  a  farewell  toast.  Doc'  was 
himself  again,  and  recalled  that  this  very 
evening  happened  to  be  the  anniversary  of 
a  farewell  dinner  given  him  by  several 
citizens  of  Baton  Rouge,  the  year  before 
Buchanan  ran. 


Doc'  was  in  Europe  nine  months  recover- 
ing his  health  and  self-respect  When  he 
came  back  to  Chicago  in  the  autumn,  on  his 
way  to  Cincinnati  to  visit  a  cousin  who  was 
commonly  mistaken  for  Chauncey  M. 
Depew,  he  wished  to  go  to  the  Alfalfa 
European  Hotel,  but  there  was  no  such 
hotel  in  Chicago.  The  old  home  and  the 
lower  houses  that  propped  it  up  on  each 
side  had  been  torn  away  to  make  room  for 
a  twelve-story  office  building  with  four  ele- 
vators, and  every  floor  busily  inhabited. 

The  dentist  and  his  wife  were  living  at  a 
family  hotel  on  the  south  side. 

In  the  scattering  of  the  colony  the  lush 
had  found  refuge  on  the  north  side.  He 
continued  to  have  desk- room  with  a  real 
estate  firm,  and  his  habits  were  somewhat 


292  DOC'    HORNE 

improved,  according  to  what  the  dentist  said 
to  Doc',  as  he  never  took  a  drink  unless  he 
felt  that  he  needed  it. 

The  bicycle  salesman  had  disappeared. 

The  book-agent  had  re-married,  and  was 
managing  his  wife's  lecture  tour  throughout 
the  corn  states. 

Ike  Francis  had  gone  back  to  a  country 
town  to  manage  a  hotel  that  was  not  in 
danger  of  being  torn  down. 

The  freckled  boy,  by  the  last  report  reach- 
ing the  dentist,  was  traveling  with  a  circus 
as  a  purveyor  of  lemonade  and  a  "gentle- 
manly agent"  who  sold  concert  tickets. 


THE    END 


PRINTED  BY  R.  R.  DONNELLEY 
AND  SONS  COMPANY  AT  THE 
LAKESIDE  PRESS,  CHICAGO,  ILL 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 



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RENEWED  BOOKS  ARE  SUBJECT  TO  IMMEDIATE 
RECALL 


LIBRARY,  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  DAVIS 

Book  Slip-25m-6,'66(G3855s4)458 


N°  440453 

PS 100 6 

Ade,  G.  A6 

Doc1  Home.  D6 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
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